


The Only Way

by confetticlockwork



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Enchanted Forest AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 46
Words: 104,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3277712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confetticlockwork/pseuds/confetticlockwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SwanQueen Fairytale Land AU: Unable to bear life as a prisoner in her own castle, a young Queen Regina flees to the Enchanted Forest in the hope of an escape. However, she soon finds her in the debt of thief and outlaw, Emma Swan, who offers her a way out of the kingdom if she accompanies her on a quest to get back what was taken from her. Neither planned on things getting complicated...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first shot at SwanQueen, which is vastly overdue as one of my OTPs, and will hopefully do these wonderful ladies justice! It is AU, as unfortunately SwanQueen isn’t canon, but I’ve tried to stay true to the characters. It is set back when Regina was the young queen, before she killed Leopold and while she was having magic lessons from Rumpelstiltskin. It shall go off at a tangent and create an entirely new story. There was no feasible way of making Emma’s parents Snow and Charming, as both would still be children, so I apologise for that.
> 
> Please review; constructive criticism or praise is always appreciated.

That was it. The final straw. She was not going to take any more of it.

 

She didn't think about what she was doing or where she was going, just that she had to escape. Even as the land opened up, warping from the oppressive stonewalls of the palace to the expansive fields that splayed across the kingdom, she didn't slow. In hindsight, she should have taken a horse, or at least some fundamental belongings, but she was muddled and angry and could focus on nothing more than the uneven ground beneath her as she streamed away from her luxurious prison.

 

Tears of fury stung soft cheeks and were brushed away irritably as she hiked her skirt up higher to avoid the vegetation grabbing onto it. The woods loomed in front of her, dense trees slightly threatening, yet they welcomed her as she approached, running until her lungs burned and her muscles ached. She suspected she would have been able to run a lot more successfully had her mother not deemed it unladylike from a young age. There was something wonderfully liberating about the wind teasing her hair loose of regal restraints.

 

Her footfalls fell on softer terrain as hard turf turned to a carpet of leaves. The sky became quickly obscured by the canopy of thick branches overhead but she didn't slow. She ran, agility of youth on her side as she ducked under tree limbs and hopped over rocks. She ran until her legs screamed and her eyes ran and her corset dug in and her lungs heaved in each breath. She ran until she couldn't run any further, any faster, any longer.

 

Doubling over, she dragged in deep breaths, rubbing the raw skin under the whalebone of her corset. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders in ebony tangles and tear-stained cheeks were red with the cold. As she slumped onto a boulder, she let herself cry. Sobs of self-pity ripped through her, hysterical in the strange environment. She was lost, distraught, totally unprepared and, despite her status, completely vulnerable. She had no plan, no supplies, no idea where she was or what she intended to do, she was just relieved to be free of that place and that man and that insufferable brat. She was finished with that life, she didn't know what else she could have, but she would do anything at that point to never go back. She sobbed into dainty, unmarred hands, trying to stifle the sound on realizing she would be drawing unwanted attention to herself in this worryingly silent forest.

 

Trembling in the chilly air, she wrapped her arms round her slender frame, gasping as she tried to calm her juddering heart. Weakness. She could hear the icy voice hissing in her ear. She was done with him as well, although that would be the hardest thing to avoid. She felt his grip on her even now. She doubted she would ever be rid of him; that's not how he functioned.

 

Wiping red eyes dry, she took a deep breath in to calm herself and looked around. She was deep in the forest, far from any path she'd ever travelled along. There was hardly any noise, just the rustle of leaves overhead. She felt alone, but wasn't comforted by the solitude as she had expected to be. As the adrenaline wore off and her energy slipped away, she had to fight back more tears at the hopelessness of her situation.

 

She had just snapped, the pressure had worn her down until she couldn't cope any more. She had put up with her husband for seven years now, obediently sitting at his side and lying in his bed day in day out, enduring that vile daughter of his as she grew into a young woman, detesting her more and more each day, abhorring every second her heart beat inside her snow-white chest. She had made public appearances, fulfilled her duties, been primped and pinched from every angle to make sure she was perfect in every way, pushed down the darkness, stifled the evil, and it had taken its toll. She had started contacting _him_ out of sheer desperation and she felt it had been, as everything else she'd ever done, a grave mistake. She could not deny the unadulterated bliss of feeling pure power sizzling through her, venting her pent up rage on whatever unfortunate animal happened to be passing. As each lesson passed, she grew stronger. She was far off the heights he wanted her to achieve, but she could cause a sizeable amount of damage when provoked. He said she had always had it in her, she had feared admitting it to anyone that perhaps he was right.

 

And now look where she was. She had fled from the palace without a passing thought to what her next move should be, she had just known she'd had to get out, and the only way she could escape was to run away when their backs were turned. She was defenseless and clueless in the Enchanted Forest, a sitting duck, and even if she wasn't attacked by anything, she had no possessions, no money, no food, not even a change of clothes and the ornate gown she wore was now slightly torn and stained around the hem, and hardly practical for gallivanting round in the woods. She cursed her random surge of emotions and complete lack of forethought. What was she going to do now?

 

She stood up and brushed off her crimson skirt. She briefly turned back the way she came, before deciding that starving or being mauled to death in the Enchanted Forest was still preferable to another second back there in that beautiful prison. Perhaps her tragic death would finally convey the message to her mother that the only way she could ever be happy with this situation was if she were dead. Not that Cora would care, she'd probably resurrect her just to punish her for demolishing her tie to royalty.

 

No, the only way was forward, away from the last five years of wasted youth, away from oppression and everyone's attempts at harnessing her strength to use as their own.  Onward was her only option. She sighed heavily, hopefully she'd just wander until she collapsed from exhaustion, or until she reached a path she recognized and could escape this kingdom for good. She never wanted to set foot in it again if she managed to leave.

 

So she pushed her hair irritably over her shoulders as continued picking her way through the undergrowth. Every step she took further away from the palace lifted her burden a fraction.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

Hours of forcing her way through the forest ensued. Not used to such rigorous exercise after allowing her passion for equestrianism to die due to the pain the stables brought her even now, she tired quickly, but continued on, never one to give up. The woods were cold, her bare arms raised with gooseflesh as the velvet of her gown snagged once more on a thistle patch. It was getting dark, and she was violently hungry, being accustomed to three large meals a day. She realised that she would have to stop soon before she collapsed through exhaustion but the idea was unappealing and the growing darkness foreboding, so she pressed on.

 

As her legs gave out and refused to carry her any further, she leant against the trunk of a tree to catch her breath. She was shivering with the cold, still as lost as before, and though her trepidation grew, as determined as she always had been. It was cold, dark, foreign and threatening, and yet she still felt miraculously free, the one light in the blanketing blackness.

 

She tugged in vain at the bodice of her dress, attempting to loosen it and lessen her discomfort, but she could not lace and unlace it on her own, especially not in the dark without a mirror. She had abandoned most of her jewellery, save for a diamond bracelet her father had bought her when she was fifteen and the ring Daniel had given to her on a thin chain round her neck. Typical, she thought, the only hope she had of acquiring help would be to sell what is valuable, and she had brought along nothing but the two possessions she was most emotionally attached to.

 

As expected, the solitude couldn't last forever, and she was caught by surprise as three horses, without any prior warning, carrying two passengers each burst into the clearing at a gallop. She jolted upright and made the split second decision to hide rather than run which ultimately proved to be the wrong choice, as she was bereft of suitable hiding places. Besides, they had already seen her and as she made to duck behind a tree, one of the people astride a horse swung down and loped towards her.

 

"Not so fast, sweetheart." He said. He had a surprisingly slick voice, oily and untrustworthy. She froze where she stood.

 

Never one to be seen as a coward, even when she was clearly at a disadvantage, she turned around to face him. His companions were vaulting off their horses and regrouping behind the one that had addressed her. Five men and a woman; earth-worn and dirty-looking, she felt six pairs of eyes raking over her, but kept her head held high, observing them as though they were mice on the ground below her.

 

"What is someone like _you_ doin' in our neck o' the woods, eh?" He said with a smirk.

 

She remained silent, assessing what the best means of escape would be. The saddlebags of the horses were full, something gold glistened within. She suspected a gang of forest thieves, not an uncommon occurrence, but one she had sincerely hoped to avoid.

 

"I asked you a question." Hissed the man at the front; fair complexion, lanky and tall, and with very few teeth. She said nothing.

 

"Oh, not speakin'? Got somethin' to hide?" Interjected one of the others, gruff-voiced and frankly massive, he lumbered up to join his friend at the front of the group. He had no hair and, by the looks of it, only seven fingers.

 

As they converged only a few paces in front of her, she realised that this situation could get nasty very quickly, so would comply.

 

"No. I have nothing to hide. I was walking and then got lost, that is all."

 

"Ooh, we've got a posh 'un here!" Cackled the woman from the back, bedraggled and slightly stooped, but not particularly old.

 

"Yeah, look at her dress, some pretty fine material, I'll wager." Added a small man from the back.

 

"Fancy getup for an evening stroll, my dear." Said the man who'd addressed her first. "You sure you're tellin' the truth?"

 

She nodded. "Yes."

 

"Well I'm afraid we can't 'ave you wandering around our hideout." He said, a smirk crawling across his face. Her stomach turned, a movement in the trees at the edge of the clearing momentarily caught her eye. The huge man noticed.

 

"Ay! What you lookin' at? 'Ave you got some little friends out here too?"

 

"Well we _certainly_ can't 'ave that. It's gotta stay a secret, see."

 

She wondered if perhaps she could throw them off the trail, so said nothing, knowing they'd take her silence as an affirmative.

 

"You do! She does! You four, check the area!" The huge man said and the three other men and one woman scampered off to check the surrounding forest.

 

She stood there, afraid to move and afraid to speak and afraid to show that she was afraid.

 

"Come out into the clearing. Don't be shy, we ain't gonna hurt ya." Said the lanky one. None of the three people there were fooled by his lie.

 

She obeyed, mustering as much dignity as she could. She'd rather move herself than have them force her.

 

The first man circled her slowly, taking in expensive ripped fabric and long, dark, tousled hair.  

 

"Pretty little thing, ain't ya? I ain't seen something so lovely in a long time..." She clenched her jaw. She would normally retaliate for such insolence, but she felt physical exhaustion weighing her down and she stood no chance against the huge man facing her, grinning sickeningly at his friend's comment.

 

“Bet the dress is worth a fortune…” She forced herself to remain stock-still and suppress the shiver that threatened to rip through her.

 

Just as it looked like he would follow this statement up with an action, the four others re-entered the clearing. She still didn’t move.

 

“Nothin’” came the result. Great, her opportunity had passed. Well, it had been worth a try.

 

“So you’re alone, are you, sweetheart?” She wished they would stop smirking.

 

She tensed completely as the small man and bedraggled woman began to inspect her, lifting locks of her hair between gnarled, dirty fingers and running light touches over expensive fabric. The group surrounded her, moving closer and closer. Her heart started pounding, throat closing up as she began to panic. She’d heard that forest dwellers had no morals, but she’d never stopped to think about what she could have been walking straight into. Their proximity made her tremble slightly, eyes darting around, searching wildly for an escape still without saying anything. The brute grabbed her chin and forced her head up to look at him while his lanky friend lifted her arm to inspect the glittering bracelet adorning it. She felt tears behind her eyes, but stubbornly fighting them back, swallowing heavily with fear.

 

“That’s beautiful.” He said. “Lovely little trinket. Might ‘ave to take that off ya, sweetheart.” He made to pull it off her wrist. She snapped out of sheer panic.

 

“No!” She wrenched her arm away from his grip, anger and surprise flashed across his twisted face. “Please, leave me be. I’ll go, I won’t come back, just please don’t touch me again!” She half begged, half growled.

 

She heard uneasy shifting around her. The woods were sickeningly silent, the darkness almost entirely cloaking. She wished she had never left. She could be warm and safe, despite the unhappiness she would undoubtedly feel.

 

The ringleader, as he’d revealed himself to be, wore a frighteningly malicious grin.

 

“Not playin’ nice, are we then?” The others shuffled in anticipation, eyes fixed on the quietly trembling girl who was likely only in her mid-twenties. He grabbed her arm in a bruisingly brutal grip, all but ripped the bracelet off her wrist and raised his other hand, his violent intention startlingly clear.

 

Then a lot happened in a tiny space of time.

 

She was no stranger to physical abuse. From a fairly young age her mother had often resorted to beatings to get her to cooperate. She, of course, would never bruise or scar, god forbid her daughter’s perfect skin should be soiled, but soon she’d learnt to anticipate what was coming. Delicate-looking as she was, she was _certainly_ not weak, and would not stand still while a bunch of common thieves stripped her of everything she had. She was mentally and physically exhausted, but it seemed she had no other option than what she had tried to avoid doing.

 

The second his hand came down towards her, she only had a moment to notice something flash out of the corner of her eye from the same spot across the clearing before she allowed the previously restrained rage in her veins to boil and bubble over. She forced it out of her mind, focused on the threatening circle around her and the nauseating wave of anger-fuelled magic swept across the clearing in a haze of green smoke. The six people surrounding her all toppled like felled conifers and remained stiff and unmoving, littering the forest floor around her.

 

Then the dizziness came, her head swimming as exertion took over and drained her of all energy instantly. She swayed on the spot, focusing on attempting to reach the diamond bracelet still within the ringleader’s rigid grasp, but ultimately never made it to reaching down and retrieving it.

 

She fell like the rest of them, eyes blurring, head pounding. She only just had time to process a figure sliding down from out of a tree across the clearing and approaching stealthily before her body gave up and succumbed to blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let everyone know, this story is already finished, and published over on FF.net and I'm publishing it here on request. I will be posting around a chapter a day for practicality. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

A nasal buzzing pierced the silence, vibrating the air around her eardrum. She screwed her eyes shut tighter against the sensory invasion, feeling the insect settle briefly on her cheek before taking off again. It was then that she became aware of where she was...so to speak. She was lying on her side on...the ground, judging by the hard surface, but it was covered by something slightly scratchy, and she was cold still, and exhausted, but there was no immediate pain, so hopefully she had managed to escape injury. Her head was still throbbing, blood pounding against her temples. She suddenly remembered what had happened, and felt panic rise again as she realised she had no idea where she was and was still very much defenceless. She had been moved, she was certain of it, but by whom and to where she had no idea.

 

Warily and painfully slowly, she blinked open lead-heavy eyelids. Night had fallen, she was still in the forest, but a roaring campfire danced a small distance away, warming one side of her body and leaving the rest, still clothed in just her gown, exposed to the chilly air. She was in fact lying in the centre of a small camp, on a coarse blanket, no possessions visible to give her a clue as to her "rescuer" except a small leather satchel lying a few feet away. As the fear set in, she slowly raised herself onto her elbows, surveying her surroundings through firelit darkness. She winced immediately at the wave of dizziness that crushed her.

 

"Oh, I wouldn't be so hasty if I were you..." Said a drawling voice from behind.

 

Immediately defensive, she turned round to look at the source of the voice. Her hands crackled slightly with magic, what energy she had left channelling into protecting herself. She observed her host through suspicious eyes.

 

Sitting against a tree trunk, sharpening the end of a stick with a knife, was a woman. She wore natural colours; browns and greens, and controversially, skin-tight trousers rather than a skirt, accompanied by well worn brown leather boots. Blonde hair fell in wild curls over her shoulders, intelligent green eyes fixed on the tip of the sharpened stick as agile hands worked it into a point with ease. She had smooth, wind-worn skin, pale in the amber light, and a hard-angled face, firm brow and set jaw indicating a ferocity and hardness. For someone who one would definitely describe as pretty, she was fairly intimidating.

 

"Um..." She was slightly lost for words.

 

"You've been out for a good few hours. Looks like you overstrained yourself. Take it easy, I am _not_ carrying you a step further." Said the stranger, without looking up. Despite her worn and haphazard appearance, she was young, no more than 23, she reckoned.

 

"You..." She slowly raised herself up until she was sitting, her brain slowly kicking into gear. "You _carried_ me?"

 

The blonde woman chuckled harshly to herself. "Yep. All the way. Had to stop a few times though, you're no where _near_ as light as you look."

 

She would have been offended if she hadn't still been so bemused.

 

"Um...ok...why?"

 

The woman scoffed and looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time, there wasn't a hint of softness there, just guarded green and vague annoyance. "Oh, by all means, don't mention it. I just saved your hide from being...well...who knows what would've happened if I'd left you there. Not even a word of thanks. Typical." She rolled her eyes and went back to her whittling.  

 

"Excuse me?" Her notorious temper flared up. "What do you mean 'typical'?"

 

The stranger sighed. "I mean it's all the same with your...class: expect people like me to do _all_ the work without giving us any credit."

 

"My _class_?!"

 

"Yes."

 

"How could you possibly--"

 

"Oh come on, a frock like that? Might as well wear a sign saying 'filthy rich'. Doesn't take a genius to recognise wealth when you see it."

 

"You seem to be plenty equipped in the art of recognising an opportunity..." She muttered under her breath.

 

The woman neither accepted not denied this accusation of criminality. She merely raised an arched eyebrow and cast an incredibly condescending glance in the other woman's direction.

 

"Shouldn't make it so blindingly obvious then, you're all the same, stupidly flaunting it for the world to see and, in cases such as this, try to take."

 

She was about to rebut this once more but stopped short as the blonde stopped what she was doing to reach inside the pocket of her trousers. She pulled something out, glinting in the firelight, then tossed it over to her guest. She caught it; her diamond bracelet. It was then that she realised how ungrateful she was being.  

 

She cleared her throat, slipping the elegant piece of jewellery back onto her wrist. "Thank you. For this and for...helping me." She tried to stop herself sounding so reluctant.

 

The blonde bowed her head, smirking slightly. "You're very welcome."

 

There was a moment's silence, the brunette attempting to push the creases out of her skirt and the blonde carving away, the end of the stick now dangerously sharp.

 

"Sorry, I asked before and didn't get an answer...why did you help me?" She asked, still seated on the floor but feeling a lot better.

 

The woman shrugged. "I was in the trees, tracking those guys. It was my intention to take the stuff they'd stolen, find a time when it would be easiest to just snatch it when they weren't looking, but when they ran into you, well like I said, you screamed wealth. I hung around hoping to get in on what they got out of you as well."

 

She narrowed her dark eyes at this. She was in the company of yet _another_ thief. Wonderful. "What made you change your mind?"

 

The blonde put down the now lethally sharp twig and turned to face her company better. She sighed and gave a noncommittal shrug. "I don't know, something about the way you fought back. I've never seen magic that strong before. I reckoned you were a little desperate and in need of some help, especially after you fainted."

 

The brunette blushed with embarrassment. She did not enjoy exposing her weaknesses to others.

 

"Who are you?"

 

The blonde laughed ironically to herself, obviously expecting the question.

 

"I'm nobody."

 

"I'd like a name."

 

"You can't always get what you like."

 

"Are you hiding something? Because--"

 

"Nah, I'm just messing with you." She shifted her weight before addressing her again. "Emma. Emma Swan. Outlaw, thief, survivor, criminal, peasant, whatever you want to call me."

 

The other woman just sat there, processing.

 

"And who is it that I so gallantly, and if I may add, uncharacteristically, saved then?"

 

She panicked, this criminal couldn't know her identity. She stammered slightly as she quickly thought up a decent alias.

 

"And I should warn you now, I have an excellent talent of knowing when people are lying."

 

She was doubtful of that claim, but since this woman likely lived out here in this isolation, and clearly hadn't recognised her, she decided that instead of lying, she should only tell half the truth.

 

"Regina." She said. "My name is Regina. And I live outside the forest but got lost and was trying to get back and--"

 

The thief, Emma Swan, laughed. "Nope. Lies. Tell me the truth."

 

"I'm not sure I want to..." Growled Regina.

 

"Well you're in my camp under my protection...all of that could be very...temporary."

 

Tired of threats, she conceded slightly. "I'm...running from something. I don't know where to yet but I have nothing with me and no idea where I am..."

 

"Well, you did a pretty good job, you're _really_ far into the Forest, no one will find you here."

 

Something about the delivery of the statement made her stomach turn. Sure, this woman had saved her, but for what? She was one of _them_. What was to stop her from finishing what the others had started?

 

"No need to look so alarmed, dear. I know my way around these trees."

 

Yes, that was _very_ reassuring.

 

Regina looked down as she twisted her bracelet round a slim wrist. Emma regarded her with curiosity.

 

"You're probably hungry, right?"

 

"I'm fine, thank you." She still didn't trust this unusual woman.

 

Emma laughed. "Ah, lies again. You're _terrible_ at the truth."

 

Regina glared, Emma laughed again.

 

"Well it's just as well you're ‘fine’ seen as we don't have anything to eat any way."

 

"So why did you ask?"

 

The blonde woman merely smirked then pulled herself to her feet and walked over to her satchel, reaching inside, pulling out a flask and handing it to Regina. She sniffed uncertainly at the lid, having seen plenty of people swigging a whole manner of damaging concoctions from them in the past, but was relieved to find just water. She took a few delicate sips and thanked the blonde.

 

"You may as well get some more rest. We won't be going anywhere until the morning."

 

Regina frowned. "Where are we going?"

 

"Away from here. If I'm going to help you, we'll both need food first."

 

Something didn't sit right with her. So she was just supposed to trust this complete stranger who had admitted to being a criminal and who was yet to give her a straight answer to any questions asked? Then again, what choice did she have? Besides, the Swan woman _had_ saved her. Why would she bother if she were just going to rob her and leave her? Regina had a distinct feeling that she wasn't being told the whole truth, but this woman was difficult, one of those people who will tell you nothing but exactly what they want to tell you, she knew that much already. She had no choice but to let things play out; not a situation she liked being in at all, but she was still weak and very much lost. If this woman turned against her, _then_ she would react.

 

Emma Swan had taken a seat on another blanket that she had stretched out in front of the fire, fully in Regina's view. She reached over under a bush edging the small clearing, rummaging around in the leaves until she pulled out a wooden bow, and once she'd searched again, removed the quiver that accompanied it. Regina wondered why she had hidden her weapon. Perhaps she thought Regina could use it against her. At this point, the blonde was arranging the quiver next to her makeshift bed, loading an arrow into the bow and keeping it close as she glanced around the darkened forest.

 

Emma lay back on her blanket, making herself comfortable as she swigged from the flask she'd offered Regina earlier. Resting on her elbows, she crossed one leg over the other and sat watching the fire. Regina observed her warily, still feeling very much on edge and definitely not trusting of this woman. Emma remained silent for a minute or so before speaking.

 

"I'm serious. You're exhausted. You need rest, and staying like that all night isn't going to help."

 

Regina stayed seated where she was and merely fixed the other woman with a look of such distrust that the blonde shifted where she lounged.

 

"Look lady, I'm not going to, I don't know, attack you any time soon. I wouldn't have gone through the frankly _huge_ effort of getting you here only to kill you now. However, if you think of trying _anything_ at any time, or if I even _feel_ like you're up to something, I will not hesitate to make sure you're never able to try it again, you hear me?" Regina was not the kind to be easily intimidated, but nodded silently.

 

The hardness in green eyes dissipated immediately, and the brunette felt slightly relieved at the lapse in tense atmosphere.

 

Regina slowly, cautiously lay down and stayed stiffly still, staring at the canopy of branches overhead. She was cold and exhausted, aching all over from running all day and summoning the power to protect herself. The small patches of inky sky visible through the trees were clear and speckled with stars, and she prayed it would remain that way; she didn't think she could cope with a sudden downpour of rain.

 

The fire flickered down to a pile of glowing embers and Regina, still very awake, was conscious that her companion was the same. Emma Swan had her arms crossed behind her head and continued to stare out into the night. The silence was crushing. She was exhausted, but was too on edge to relax. She felt the hours tick by, her stomach complaining due to lack of food for an entire day and she was uncomfortable and wary of what was to come.

 

After a good few hours of lying in the dark, exhaustion eventually took over, and sleep claimed her unwillingly.


	3. Chapter 3

Stretching out stiff limbs, Emma Swan ran a hand through blonde curls and cracked her knuckles. The air was icy and heavy with dew, she could smell moisture; it would likely rain later. She checked her satchel and was pleased to see everything still present. She kicked damp leaves over the remaining embers of the fire to smother it, then turned her attention to the woman on her other blanket.

 

She was still slightly confused by her companion. She was _exactly_ the kind of person Emma immediately distrusted and actively avoided. She'd been kicked around by her type enough when she was too young to defend herself, and past experiences had ingrained an entrenched hatred for people like her. This process would not be easy, but it was necessary.

 

She observed her resting. She slept curled in on herself, her body tense, brow furrowed. Her dark hair was pushed out of her face, smooth skin raised with gooseflesh from the cold. Even in sleep she looked uneasy. This would certainly not be practical; the woman was clearly totally unaccustomed to the forest. She had watched her just _walk straight in_ _to_ a gang of thieves and done _nothing_ to try and get herself out of it. Emma rolled her eyes; such extraordinary beauty, and clearly no common sense at all.

 

She walked over to Regina and nudged her with the toe of her boot.

 

"Oi, come on, wake up. We've gotta go."

 

The brunette stirred and opened bleary eyes before immediately jolting to attention, flexing slender fingers and sitting upright.

 

"Where are we going?" She asked quietly, adjusting to the morning.

 

"Anywhere other than here. We've gotta keep moving to avoid...let's just call it 'unwanted company'."

 

Regina subtly stretched out aching muscles, still feeling run down, but ultimately a lot better. She was, however, _starving_. She wouldn't say so though.

 

She rose to her feet, folding the blanket immaculately then handing it to Emma, who murmured thanks while internally mocking the uptight nature of it all. She realised that she would have to explain her intentions pretty soon, but, knowing the other wouldn't take it particularly well, she decide to put it off as long as she could.

 

"We should find something to eat. I'll keep an eye out along the way." She stated before slipping on the satchel, shouldering her quiver and taking up her bow. Glancing around to make sure she'd got everything, she once more offered Regina a drink, which she begrudgingly accepted, then headed off out of the clearing with a "Right, let's go!" leaving Regina no other option but to trail after her.

 

\-----

 

They left the campsite behind them and began walking through the forest in silence. Emma was pleasantly surprised to see the other woman keeping up with apparent ease.

 

The quiet couldn't last forever.

 

"I'm sorry, it's not that I don't appreciate what you're doing, but where are you taking me? You don't seem like the type to randomly assist people in need." Asked Regina after ten minutes of trekking.

 

Emma scoffed at the reference to her "type", only just admitting to the hypocrisy of this before deciding to answer carefully.

 

"I'm taking you out of the forest, I'm _helping_ you out of a rare moment of goodwill. I thought that would be enough, seen as you're quite clearly desperate--"

 

"I'm not desperate." Muttered Regina bitterly.

 

"Really? Because you looked pretty desperate to me, princess."

 

"Don't call me that." The brunette snapped instantly.

 

Emma raised her eyebrows, feigning resignation but smirking all the same.

 

"Ok, whatever you wish, princess."

 

Regina twitched irritably at the oh-so-ironic nickname, but refused to give this ruffian the benefit of a reaction.

 

A few more minutes passed, before Regina voiced her query once more.

 

"I didn't tell you where I lived. You have no idea where I want to be but you seem pretty fixed on a destination. Why is that?"

 

"I just -- I just wanna get you out of here as quickly as possible--" stammered Emma.

 

"Rubbish." Accused her companion. "You know exactly where you're going, and it isn't an easy route to throw me out of the forest. You're not telling me something, and seen as it so clearly concerns me, I demand that you tell me what the hell is going on this instant!" She ordered.

 

Damn, maybe the airhead wasn't as stupid as she'd originally thought. Come to think of it, that was even _more_ impractical than having an idiot; at least idiots don't ask questions.

 

"Ok, fine. I'll tell you what happening. Let's stop and eat first; you're undoubtedly hungry."

 

Regina opened her mouth to argue, before deciding that a meal would not go amiss, and she couldn't acquire one on her own.

 

"Ok. But no more stalling."

 

Emma was about to turn around and ask when on earth did _she_ start making the rules, before deciding getting into another argument would be unwise, so simply stopped by a large boulder and indicated for her to do the same.

 

"Wait here. I'll go and get something. I would say start a fire, but I doubt it'll do any good." She said before sliding an arrow out of her quiver and loading her bow, then stalking off into the forest, leaving Regina leaning against the boulder, decidedly irate.

 

Before being fully conscious of making the decision to do so, she had begun breaking dry branches off the trees around her, collecting them into a large bundle and dropping them on the floor, surrounding the pile with damp leaves. Having no experience in the natural starting of fires and adequately driven to prove the blonde thief wrong, she flicked her wrist and set the branches alight. That'd show the Swan woman not to treat her like a child.

 

She was once more leaning against the boulder when the other woman returned, only a fire was burning in the makeshift fire pit. Emma raised a mildly impressed eyebrow but said nothing. She carried an arrow; skewered on the end of it was a small rabbit, hanging limply by its middle. She held it up. "Had rabbit before?"

 

The brunette didn't flinch as Emma had expected her to, but shook her head as a negative.

 

Emma set about preparing the rabbit while Regina stood back and watched her skin and gut the animal with morbid fascination. Emma sat crossed legged on the ground, slowly turning the meat over on the fire, counting down the seconds until Regina decided she'd had enough and would start asking questions.

 

Once the blonde decided the food had been cooked all the way through, she ripped a piece off and handed it to Regina, who tentatively took it from her, blowing on it to cool it before taking a delicate bite. Emma watched with amusement, tearing large chunks off her own portion and swallowing them while still steaming.

 

Regina was not impressed with the meal, but was so grateful to have something in her stomach that she ate everything she was given. The pair stayed in silence, Regina standing and Emma sitting, taking it in turns to observe the other out of sheer curiosity when they thought they weren't looking.

 

Eventually, Regina lost her patience and, having begrudgingly wiped her hands on her skirt, addressed the blonde.

 

"Ok, no more diversions. Tell me what you're thinking."

 

Emma, still reluctant to let anything slip, adopted a sickeningly innocent expression. "What makes you think I'm thinking anything other than what I've told you?"

 

"Don't insult me, I wasn't born yesterday. Common goodness doesn't exist; everyone wants something. You have something to gain from helping me, and I'm not refusing to cooperate, so the least you can do is tell me what you want from me."

 

Chewing slowly on the last of her meal, Emma leaned back onto her hands to look at Regina with an expression worryingly close to appraisal. She nodded.

 

"Ok, fine. You're right; I do want something from you, and the likelihood is you aren't gonna like it, but it's the only way I'm getting you out of the forest and to...wherever you want to go."

 

"I'm listening. What do you want?"

 

Emma sighed heavily. "I need your help."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because you can do magic, quite successfully, going by what I saw during that...dilemma, despite being a little rough round the edges. I need the help of someone who is powerful enough to help me get back something that is rightfully mine, and you, princess, are powerful enough."

 

Regina narrowed her eyes, still wary. "What is it that is 'rightfully yours' that you need my help to retrieve?"

 

The blonde paused before answering, glancing away from Regina to look out into the trees.

 

"My son."

 

"You son?" Regina asked disbelievingly.

 

"Yes; my son."

 

"Who has your son?"

 

"A very powerful man, the most dangerous you're ever likely to have the misfortune to meet. He's got him."

 

"Wait, how--"

 

"It's a long story, and not one I want to tell. In short, he tricked me. He took him from me and has kept him from me for the six years he's been alive and I have no way of getting him back because I don't have magic. It's time I got him back, by force, seen as it's come to that. When I saw you fight off that gang, it seemed so...convenient."

 

"Of course saving me wasn't just human decency..." Said Regina, rolling dark eyes.

 

Emma laughed. "Don't be naive, princess, it's every man for himself out here...or herself. Just be glad you convinced me you were worth saving."

 

Regina wished she had never run into this forest, never come across those thieves and so had never had to have been saved. They both knew full well that Regina owed Emma a debt.

 

"So...what does helping you get your son back involve?"

 

Emma sighed. "It involves a journey, and not a short one. It involves travelling to the residence of the one who's got him and it then involves taking him back. That's where you come in. The place is likely to be very well guarded and will definitely take magic to break into."

 

Regina nodded her understanding, then decided to push it a little bit.

 

"And I should help you why?"

 

Emma fixed her with a look so stern that someone weaker than Regina may have buckled.

 

"Because I saved your life, that's why. Because there is no way you are ever getting out of here alone and therefore I am your only hope. Because I've helped you, so you now have to help me. Because it's the right thing to do, princess." She hissed.

 

Regina laughed internally. Since when has _she_ ever cared about doing the right thing? Certainly not after her marriage. She suddenly thought that maybe this thief had stronger morals than she did.

 

"Ok. That seems...reasonable. I'm not happy, but I'll comply." She said carefully.

 

Emma Swan brushed off her hands then pulled herself to her feet an extended one to Regina.

 

"We go to save my son. You do everything you can to help me get him back. In return, I get you out of this forest safely, and take you wherever you want to go after we've succeeded. We part ways and you never have to see me again. Deal?"

 

Regina sighed in resignation, but it appeared once again that she had very little choice in the matter.

 

She took the blonde's hand and shook it. "Deal."

 

"Right. Come on, let's move. We'll travel a bit further then stop for the night when I find somewhere to camp." Said Emma, shouldering her bow and quiver. Regina nodded mutely and followed her out of the clearing.

 

"So...how long will it take us to get to this man's house?"

 

Emma slowed down, biting her lip.

 

"Yeah, here's the thing, I don't...I don't actually, per se, _know_ where he lives..."

 

"Great!" Exclaimed Regina. "So where on earth are we going now then?"

 

"Hey, relax, princess, I know a place where we can find someone who will know where to find my son. It's a day or two's travel, and we can stop for supplies when we're there."

 

"Ok. I don't have any money though..."

 

Emma scoffed. "Of course not, unprepared once again. Luckily, I'll be able to pay for anything we need through my own means."

 

Regina got the implication immediately, and it ultimately didn't affect her. It wasn't the actually _illegality_ that bothered her about thieves, she couldn't care less in that respect, it was the temperamental and ruthless nature that usually came with common criminals. The unpredictability; _that’s_ what set her on edge.

 

She chose to just accept her rather unfortunate situation and get on with it. The sooner they rescued this woman's son, the sooner they could part ways and Regina could get on with the new life she dreamed of having, somewhere far far away from her husband and her palace and indeed from people like Emma Swan. Although, she imagined there would always be people like Emma Swan there to inconvenience her.

 

"Fine. Lead the way then."

 


	4. Chapter 4

They were walking all day, ploughing through the foliage. They spoke little, and when they did, it was impersonal and curt, Regina asking about the area, Emma answering shortly, or Emma informing her of their general direction and Regina giving her assent without comment.

 

Regina pushed forward without complaining, despite her fatigue, Emma striding on with little difficulty. As evening rolled in, a clap of thunder overhead caused both heads to tilt up in anguish as the heavens opened.

 

As the rain poured down, Regina looked to her guide in desperation. Emma gasped as cold water ran down the back of her neck. She glanced around to regain her bearings then made a quick decision.

 

"Come on, quickly!" She hissed, and turned to run straight through tangles of bushes and tree after tree, rain beating down against both of them.

 

By the time they started to slow, the trees were thinning out and Emma was so relieved that her sense of direction was as good as ever. They had reached a break in the forest, an area of bare rock that covered a large expanse of land, the terrain uneven, the line of trees restarted a distance across from them.

 

"Where are we going? This is even more exposed!" Shouted Regina over the drumming over the rain.

 

"Have a little faith, princess! There should a cave around here somewhere!"

 

"'Should be'?!" But her cries fell on deaf ears as the blonde took off running again, jumping down off the slight ledge and climbing over bare rock, the other woman close behind, equally eager to get out of the rain.

 

"There's something here!" Emma shouted back to her companion, indicating to a small crevice in a rock face. "Help me move this boulder!"

 

The entrance to what Regina assumed was a small cave was blocked by a large stone. She glanced upwards. She couldn't believe that only yesterday, she'd been in a warm, comfortable palace, being brought banquets whenever she desired them and sleeping on the finest eiderdown. Despite the slight twinge of excitement she got from this new experience, she was mostly aggravated and tired of this "quest" already.

 

The two women threw all their combined weight against the slippery rock, pushing and shoving until it gave way just enough for them to squeeze past and into the welcome shelter of the cave behind it. It was dark, and not very spacious, but the barrier it created between them and the wind and rain was a godsend.

 

After ducking through the entrance, the cave broadened out slightly so there was just enough room to stand. An adequate amount of light came through the opening to show them an outline of their surroundings, but certainly wouldn't do when night fell.

 

Emma hugged her own thin frame, rubbing her upper arms with her hands.

 

"Could you make a fire? We could really do with getting warm." She asked.

 

Regina, completely drenched, spoke through minutely chattering teeth: "Magic isn't easy, you know? It isn't effortless."

 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know all that, but it's sort of essential right now." Insisted the thief.

 

Regina rolled her eyes, but conceded. She reckoned this journey would pass a lot quicker if her and her guide didn't stop to argue at every point, but it seemed their personalities clashed on every level.

 

"There's no wood. I can't keep a fire going on cold stone." She said in defeat, glancing around their hideout and finding nothing of use.

 

Emma sighed. "Ok, it looks like we'll have to use these then." She said with disappointment. She pulled her quiver off her shoulder and removed around five sticks, all of which had been sharpened to a point at one end, the same as the one Regina had seen her working on the night before.

 

"Extra arrows. They don't shoot as well without the feathers but they're good enough when you're desperate. They're also good to throw at things and for impaling stuff, so...yeah, I make them when I can. Looks like we have no choice but to burn them." She snapped them into smaller pieces and made them into a pile in the centre of the cave.

 

When she'd stepped back, Regina closed her eyes, dragging all her power to the front of her mind. When she opened them, she focussed on the sticks, shivering with the cold, soaked to the skin and completely exhausted. She forced the last of her dwindling energy towards her right hand, flicking it upward while staring at the sticks, in a fluid and well-practiced gesture. A spark flew up from the pile, smoke began to billow and slowly, flames rose and grew.

 

"It's going to get very smoky in here, very quickly." Interjected Emma, staring at the fire with something akin to awe.

 

"I'll sort that out." Said Regina, newfound confidence filling her. Waving her hand, she willed the growing trail of smoke to flow towards the entrance and out into the open air. She smiled as she saw it keeping to its designate path.

 

"Wow, that's uh...pretty impressive, princess."

 

"Well, if that's the only reason I'm here, I had probably better keep reassuring you of my abilities."

 

Emma actually smiled at this, clearly amused. They sat down beside the fire, happy to be warmed by its forgiving heat for a moment, before Emma came to her senses.

 

"We'll catch a chill like this. We won't warm up quick enough." She said out loud, but it appeared as though she were more talking to herself.

 

Without warning, she pulled off her soaked jacket, stretching it out in front of the fire to dry, which left her in a thin, white, slightly damp shirt that clung to cold pale skin. Regina was slightly terrified that she'd strip down further, but she obviously decided against it, her leather trousers having survived the storm surprisingly well. She rubbed her arms again, pulling damp blonde curls out of her face and shuffling closer to the fire. After minute of silence, she looked across to Regina.

 

"You're drenched, princess."

 

Regina was really beginning to detest that nickname.

 

"I'm fine." She said curtly, harshly. Evidently, however, the other woman didn't get the message.

 

"Come on, that material's heavy, it's gonna be damp all night and you're just gonna get colder and colder."

 

"It isn't that bad." She snapped.

 

"Hey, calm down, I was only trying to help-"

 

"Well I don't remember asking for your help."

 

"Well I'm sorry if I don't want to be dragging someone who's dying around with me--"

 

"You're overreacting."

 

"Believe me, I have experience in this area."

 

"Of course you do, you're clearly the expert at everything-"

 

"In this case, yes, I am, and your attitude is beginning to really piss me off..."

 

"Oh, well in that case, I'll stop immediately--"

 

"You'd be wise to, princess."

 

"Don't call me that!"

 

"Well since it annoys you, I'm _certainly_ not going to stop!"

 

"You are the rudest individual I have _ever_ had the misfortune to come across!"

 

"Then I guess you only mingle with people as uptight and pretentious as you are!"

 

"How _dare_ you--"

 

"Let's not get into this again!"

 

"You brought it up!"

 

"I just want you to dry your damn dress off!"

 

"And _I_ said my 'damn dress' is fine, thank you!"

 

"Oh for fuck's sake, Regina, take the dress off!"

 

Emma's final shout echoed round the cave, reverberating off the walls and bouncing back to Regina again and again. She was fuming, bemused, no one had spoken to her like that since her mother, and never someone like Emma Swan. Regina gritted her jaw, and chose to rise above it, knowing ultimately she could not win, since she was already feeling the effects of staying in her rapidly freezing gown.

 

She kept her eyes locked on the blonde's, rising slowly to her feet, their combined heavier breathing and the thunder of the storm overhead were the only sounds. Reaching round behind her back, she steadily pulled at the ties of the bodice, undoing them with a newfound determination that she had lacked before. Once they were loose enough, she pulled the sleeves off pale shoulders and allowed the bodice to pool around her waist before pushing it the rest of the way down her legs, then stepping out of it. She stood in her white silk chemise and petticoat, trembling slightly in the cold air. The blonde still held her gaze, regarding the other woman in fine white silk with damp dark hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back, coal-dark eyes ablaze with fury. She looked ethereal, like some sort of apparition, yet at the same time mildly sinister.

 

Laying red velvet alongside rough fabric, Regina took a seat closer to the fire, tucking black booted legs underneath herself to keep in as much heat as possible. The atmosphere was tense, the glares they sent the other's way unwavering. Emma felt her stomach complain; they hadn't eaten since the rabbit and they'd walked a long way. Disturbing the charged stillness, she reached for her satchel and rummaged through it, drawing out two large, thick, fleshy leaves of a rich green colour and the flask of water that was half empty by now.

 

Regina, determined not to show how cold she was, yet begrudgingly warming up due to the blonde's advice, furrowed her brow in confusion. Emma rolled her eyes at her apparent cluelessness.

 

"They're Stola leaves. They come from a vine that's pretty common in that part of the forest. I picked some up when I caught the rabbit. They don't have much goodness in them, but they're better than nothing. You always cook them first, though." She explained, filling the silence and dispelling the tension slightly. Regina was secretly thankful of it.

 

Emma placed the leaves on the fire to blacken and took a swig of water before offering it to Regina, who had to stop herself from commenting on the other woman's appalling manners. The rain continued to drum down with a vengeance, like it was trying to cleanse the land. Regina listened to its strangely relaxing rhythm while Emma pulled the leaves off the fire and handed her one.

 

The plant was chewy and juicy on the inside, and despite not tasting of anything, was satisfying to simply chew and swallow, and filled her up at least a little bit. She felt a lot warmer now, and saw that her companion's shirt had dried, rendering it thankfully more opaque. Emma yawned loudly.

 

"We'd better rest. Not like we'd be doing anything else worthwhile and I don't fancy arguing again." She said.  Regina did not like the passive role she had been assigned in this mission, but realised there was little she could do about it.

 

Emma handed her the blanket she had slept on the night before and they both settled down, huddle next to the fire. Neither were particularly happy about sharing such a small space with someone who had managed to aggravate them so extensively in the short period they had known each other, so lay stiffly on their backs, staring at the moss-covered stone roof above them, Regina praying there wouldn't be any small animals or large insects nearby, Emma hoping she hadn't lost where they were in the forest. Neither spoke for a while.

 

"What are you running from, princess?" Emma's voice broke through the night.

 

"How did he manage to trick you into giving him your son?" She asked back without faltering.

 

"Touché." Came the answer. Neither spoke again for the rest of the night.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Regina woke first, shivering and stiff, a sensation she was really beginning to tire of. The fire still flickered in the centre of the cave; her enchantment had evidently been stronger than she'd thought.

 

Her companion slept on, completely at ease, Regina envied her experience with the surroundings. She regarded wildly tangled blonde curles with distaste, before realising hers wouldn't be in a much better state. She dragged fingers through her own, attempting to fight it into some sort of order but ultimately feeling pessimistic about its long-term state. Eventually, her irritation drove her to conjure a hair restraint and tie it back in as elegant a style as she could achieve with minimal effort. She had no reason to worry about her appearance out here.

 

Reaching over she took the material of her deep crimson dress between her fingers; still slightly damp but ultimately much drier. She stood up and slipped it on. As she struggled behind her back with the ties, the blonde stirred and awoke.

 

"In a bit of a hurry to leave, are we princess?" She murmured.

 

Regina huffed. The first words they'd exchanged that day and she was already aggravated.

 

"Well yes, the sooner we leave, the quicker we'll get going and ultimately, the sooner this whole thing will be over and done with."

 

Emma shrugged and sat up. "Need a hand?" She asked as she watched the brunette struggle.

 

"If you would be so kind." Regina deadpanned. Emma decided this passive-aggressive attitude to one another was favourable to outright aggression.

 

She indicated for Regina to turn around then inspected the lacing of her bodice.

 

"I didn't realise I'd need to take a course in nautical knot-tying for this." She said. Regina's following silence was deliberate.

 

Working the laces through the complicated crisscross of holes, Emma was pleased with herself when she managed to tie it into some sort of order with minimal instruction. As she pulled the strings taught, material covering immaculate, smooth skin, Regina gasped as the bodice pressed into marks made the day before. Emma apologised and loosened it slightly before tying it off.

 

"That'll have to do."

 

Regina murmured thanks, rolling her shoulders back to adjust to moist material.

 

They kicked the fire out then packed up and exited the cave, reviewing the damp surroundings with a sense of trepidation. Emma led them back to the forest and they continued along the path they had picked out the day before, the undergrowth dragging rain-soaked tendrils against their legs.

 

The atmosphere was not as heavy as it had been; conversation was still minimal but felt a little easier. It mostly consisted of commenting on the surroundings or Regina asking their direction again and again until Emma told her to stop it.

 

"So you live out here?" She asked after they had walked in silence for a while.

 

"I live wherever I can." Emma replied. "Wherever there's something to eat, something to steal and somewhere to sleep."

 

Regina's silence was better at conveying her disapproval than a scathing remark would have ever been.

 

"Look princess, it might be all grand balls and tea parties where you come from but out in the real world, you have to fight for survival, whatever it takes. I do honest work where I can get it but ultimately, the only way I can stay fed is by giving people what they want, and often I have to acquire that from somewhere, or someone, else. The forest is always full of rich passers-by with more money than they know what to do with, and it's not like I _kill_. It's just the way the world is."

 

Regina looked down and nodded minutely. "I understand, I suppose. We've all had to do something we're not proud of to get by."

 

Emma glanced over at the brunette, who was too busy disentangling her skirt from a bramble bush to notice emerald eyes roaming a face that suddenly appeared less innocent than it had before.

 

"So, where do you want to go after we've done this? I can take you anywhere."

 

Regina slowed down to think. She hadn't really considered where she would go after this. She supposed she should at some point.

 

"I don't know. Anywhere. Far away. Foreign. I don't ever want to come back."

 

"Understandable. There are many reasons why you wouldn't, but which did you choose?"

 

"I'm running from something. The life I've led, I don't ever want to go back. I want a fresh start. My situation is far from ideal."

 

Emma laughed. "Your situation? ‘Far from ideal’? I know dozens of people who would give everything they have to trade places with you."

 

"You can't pass judgement when you don't know anything about my circumstance."

 

"I know enough to see that it's preferable to most other people's. Look at me; I have nothing. I'd trade places with you any day."

 

"I doubt that." She snapped

 

Emma laughed again. "You need to get some perspective, princess."

 

"You have _no_ idea what my life is like!" Regina hissed.

 

Emma stopped and turned to face the brunette. "Oh really? Because it seems pretty ideal to me! I know I don't know what your situation is, and going on the way we're getting along I probably never will, but there is no way it is anything close to what people like me go through every day, so you have no right to be upset with your lot. Like I said, princess, _perspective_."

 

"Look, whatever vision you have of some paradise world that I come from, it couldn't be further from the truth. I am, as you have continuously pointed out, completely ill-adapted to these conditions. I am cold, unclean, hungry and tired and have _no_ idea where we are or where we're going. I am putting all of my faith in a thief who I don't even know if I _should_ trust, who I definitely _don’t_ trust, and who I'm pretty sure I don't even _like_. This is my version of hell, Swan, and it's the happiest and most peaceful I've been in seven years. So don't you dare comment on my life when you have _no idea_ what it's like."

 

Emma stood silently, regarding dark eyes that were pools of furious obsidian. Regina was flushed with rage, Emma caught sight of purple sparks crackling round her right hand, and slowly and cautiously rested a hand on the bow on her shoulder, more for reassurance than threat.

 

She sighed, remaining a safe distance away, knowing from the brief experience she had how temperamental this woman could be. "Ok. Fine. You're right. I know nothing of your life; I have no right to judge. I just got aggravated because my lot isn't great either. I'm sorry I snapped."

 

Regina sighed in resignation, brushing back errant locks of hair that had escaped her restraints. "Let's just get going again." She said, anger morphing into fatigue.

 

Emma nodded and continued through the trees, Regina remaining a short distance behind. "We should be at the town by nightfall."


	6. Chapter 6

The journey took only a little longer than Emma had anticipated. It seemed that the clouds had rained themselves out and were content with hanging lazily over the land, neither here nor there.

 

They'd encountered minimal problems. A wild cat had leapt out onto the path in front of them and had startled them to the point that Emma had shot it on impulse and when she glanced around to check on Regina, there was a ball of fire hovering an inch above her palm.

 

Being aware that it's meat would give them little in the way of nutrition and could well make them ill, Emma decided that, instead of leaving the carcass to rot, she would put _some_ of it to use at least and so skinned the animal of its fine pelt, placing it in her satchel and informing her companion that it would sell when they reached the town.

 

By the time the trees thinned out, both were stumbling on tired legs and hadn't the energy for interaction or conversation. The invisible path they had been following became a dirt track, well worn by travellers stopping at the cluster of buildings surrounded by farmed fields. Emma sighed at the sight; regarding the illuminated widows and noticeable bustle of activity with relief.

 

As they approached the town, she turned to Regina.

 

"Right, the first place we'll look is the tavern. If he isn't there...well....I don't know where to look after that. When we find him, I'll do the talking. Say nothing; if you say the wrong thing, there's no hope. He is an acquaintance of mine...on a good day I'd stretch to 'friend', but he's tricky, and he can be a little overbearing sometimes. Ignore everything he says. Leave it to me and if we're lucky, he'll give us what we need."

 

Regina nodded in admission.

 

The town was of admirable size; small enough to be easily navigable and to narrow down possible locations of their target, but small enough to be quaint and, Regina hoped, insignificant, and she prayed no one would recognise her.

 

Emma got her bearings before leading them down the main street, remaining inconspicuous among the inhabitants still up and about as the evening drew on. Catching sight of a familiar sign, she grabbed Regina's arm and pulled her rather suddenly into the tavern.

 

The heat hit them immediately; the tavern was stuffy but the warmth was welcome on the women who had been travelling all day. The large room was dimly lit only by two roaring fires at either end and gas lamps hanging from the varnished wooden walls. It was full of people, most of them human, some of them not, many swigging from tankards. The noise was incredible, and Regina wondered how the other woman intended to have a conversation over the racket.

 

"He'll be somewhere at the back." She shouted back to Regina, who replied with, "Lead the way!"

 

They pushed their way through crowds of people, ignoring several shouts sent their way by those already drunk. Regina felt uneasy, but once more invigorated. Another place she had never been before, and the experience was a rather exciting one, if slightly intimidating. She kept her face coolly neutral, however, as Emma almost dragged her to the back of the rowdy room.

 

Glancing around and skimming over dwarves and farmers and soldiers and sailors, Emma sought out a familiar figure she was almost certain would be here. She was correct; green eyes came to rest on the man she was seeking.

 

Regina was mildly alarmed as the blonde leant in close, invading what she considered her personal space, only to realise she intended to shout something in her ear.

 

"That's him, in the corner. Remember what I said, not a word unless I prompt you to talk."

 

"Understood." She shouted back.

 

Emma led her over to a table in the much quieter corner with one sole occupant.

 

He looked up on their approach and grinned.

 

"My my, Swan, it's been a while. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

 

Emma rolled her eyes at his over-pleasant tone, something about which made Regina's skin crawl.

 

"Killian." Said Emma, nodding her head in greeting.

 

"You're looking well, sweetheart." He commented with a closely appraising glance along the length of Emma slender figure.

 

"You're not." She said harshly. He laughed heartily in response.  

 

He glanced behind her, noticing she had company.

 

"And _who_ is this?" He asked with a lopsided grin. His eyes darkened, expression leering. Regina resisted the urge to scowl.

 

"This is my...friend. Regina. Regina, this is Killian Jones...or Captain Hook as he's now more commonly known."

 

Killian Jones was everything Regina had expected of a sailor worthy of a moniker. His attire consisted almost entirely of black leather, and he wore no other colour aside from a few large gold and silver rings. He had short black hair swept slightly to one side, accompanied by a moustache and beard of careless stubble. He had brooding dark eyes under a heavy brow and a straight nose and strong jaw. As he grinned, she saw several gold teeth, and his shirt hung open at the front, skin weatherworn and tanned through sun exposure. He raised his arm in greeting; his left hand was missing and had been replaced by a lethal-looking silver hook. He was ruggedly, strikingly handsome and at the same time highly threatening.

 

"Believe me, love, the pleasure is all mine." He said with a smirk. Regina offered a tight smile and a bow of the head.

 

Emma took a seat opposite him without being offered and looked pointedly at the one beside her, prompting Regina to take the initiative to sit down next to her.

 

"I assume you aren't here to exchange pleasantries." Said Hook, raising his tankard of ale and drinking deeply.

 

"You assume correct." Said Emma. All the light-hearted teasing tone and amused tilt had gone from her voice. She looked calmly determined. Regina bit back a scathing remark as she caught Hook looking at her with that expression again.

 

"What can I do for you two ladies?"

 

The man was cockily confident. Regina suspected that, like her host, he was not in a particularly honest trade.

 

"I need to find someone." Emma started. "They have something of mine, and I want it back. I believe you could help us in finding him."

 

Hook leaned back in his seat and grinned. "And what makes you think that?"

 

Emma glared and shook her head. "Don't give me that, you know your way around this land better than anyone I know and you've sure been alive long enough to explore." She said. There was an angry undertone in her voice. Regina felt a sudden respect for the woman swell in her.

 

"You wound me, love." He said, looking wholly unwounded. "Who is it you seek?"

 

"Someone we both want revenge on."

 

Hook's demeanour went from playful to murderous in the space of a second. "The crocodile." He growled, eyes glinting maliciously.

 

Emma nodded. "He's got something of mine." She reiterated.

 

Hook looked momentarily confused, before understanding washed over his features. "Ah yes, I remember. Why do you want _that_ back? Surely it's better off--"

 

"Say another word and I'll cut your other hand off, you lowlife." She hissed with such venom it even threw Regina slightly.

 

Hook raised his eyebrows in submission. "Fine." To avoid her poisonous gaze, he diverted his attention back to Regina.

 

"What role does your delightful friend play in all of this?" He asked.

 

"She's none of your concern." Snapped Emma.

 

"Ooh, touchy are we?" He smirked, then directly addressed Regina. "I haven't seen you around before, love. Where are you from? What's she got on you?"

 

Regina scowled, and would have spoken out if Emma hadn't interrupted. "Where she's from and what she's doing here are none of your business, pirate!" Hook suddenly found himself faced with two women sending him death glares. He merely smirked again.

 

"Alright! Calm yourself, Swan, I was jut being friendly."

 

"You're never just being friendly, Killian."

 

"Yeah, well you'd know from experience, love."

 

Regina's stomach turned, but she succeeded in masking her discomfort.

 

Emma rolled her eyes. "Look, Hook, can you help us or not?"

 

"Oh, I certainly _can_ help you, but why _should_ I help you?"

 

He drained his glass then leant back against the wall.

 

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute, if you know where he dwells, why haven't you...taken your revenge yet?"

 

The grin slid off his face, biting his tongue and glancing down at his lap.

 

"I can't. The place is too well guarded. I can't find anyone whose magic is strong enough, and it's not like the fairies will ally with me."

 

It was Emma's turn to smirk. "So you know where he is, but can't get to him?"

 

"That is correct."

 

"That's rough, my friend."

 

"Why don't you kick me in the crotch while you're at it, love?" He grinned sarcastically.

 

"Don't tempt me, Killian." She drawled. Regina felt decidedly outside of this little interlude.

 

"Well it's too bad no one can get to him which begs the question why you're even bothering finding out where he lives..." He said, casual tone returning.

 

Emma huffed out a breath, leaning back in her chair and evidently contemplating whether to say what she was going to say next. For the first time since they'd sat down, she looked over at Regina, who was looking calm as ever, but her posture was rather rigid.

 

"We have a way." Is what she settled for saying.

 

"What?" Asked Hook, suddenly very interested.

 

"I said, we have a way. A way of getting past his protection enchantments and inside the place itself. So we're going to get inside and steal back my son, hopefully without being seen."

 

"I don't believe you."

 

"Do you think I'd be wasting my time chasing you up if I didn't have a way?"

 

He thought for a moment, his appraising gaze more for her reasoning than her appearance.

 

"Even if you did get your son back, he'd know it was you, he'd come after you."

 

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. All I know is that I have a way to get him back and I'm going to try it, no matter what it takes. When we encounter a problem, we'll solve it, but I am not missing anymore of him growing up."

 

She spoke with conviction, and Hook look temporarily pacified.

 

"Alright, love, I'll make you a deal. I tell you where he lives and how to get there, and in return, you take me with you. You use your 'secret weapon' and get me inside and let me enact my revenge. Then I'll be out of your hair for good, until of course you next come looking for me." He finished with a crooked grin that was pointedly ignored. "Deal?"

 

Emma considered for a moment. She didn't want this to turn into some sort of strange pilgrimage; an enlarged group was bound to attract more attention. Even after all this time and all that history, she still felt slightly uneasy around Hook. God knows their past hadn't been black and white, and she would probably count them as friends, but while there was a mutual respect and almost camaraderie between the two of them on occasion, she still didn't really trust him, and having both him _and_ the temperamental rich girl in the same place as Emma herself was likely to produce catastrophic results.  

 

Then again, he was their only lead, and the urge to see her son again, to take him in her arms and promise to never let go again grew stronger every day. Once more, she had no choice.

 

"Alright, Hook. I'm not happy about it but it seems we have no other choice. Accompany us to his residence then do what you will with him, we just need to know how to get there."

 

"Sorry, when you keep saying 'we', are you referring to..."

 

"Regina and me."

 

"Right..." Hook glanced from Emma to the beautiful brunette by her side with curious eyes. Emma guessed it wouldn't take him long to figure it out, he'd always been irritatingly perceptive.

 

"So? Where is it? Where does he live?" She asked, cutting to the chase.

 

"Ah, that's the thing, love. I don't _know_ where he lives, but I can tell you."

 

"What?" Hissed Emma. Hook sensed her impending rage.

 

"Calm down, love! Bloody hell, you're a loose canon! I have a map back on my ship, it shows the way. It's fairly complex but I'm sure you'll pick it up."

 

Emma sighed. Another quest. She looked over to Regina who looked back with slight confusion evident.

 

The bustle and noise of the tavern grew by the minute as more people streamed in as it reached peak time. Even their little secluded corner became filled with the terrible sound of drunken sea shanty renditions and alcohol-induced brawls. Emma rolled her eyes in defeat.

 

"Oh well, one impromptu trip aboard the Jolly Roger it is then!"

 


	7. Chapter 7

"We'll leave tomorrow, then. It'd be stupid to travel at night." Declared the pirate. Emma, though eagerly anticipating the next step that brought her closer to her goal, begrudgingly agreed.

 

"I have a room here for the night if you two ladies would like to share..." He suggested, his smirk implying that he might not be completely joking.

 

Emma didn't even flinch. "No thank you, Killian. Though I appreciate the offer."

 

"Perhaps next time then, Swan." His grin was lecherous.

 

"We'll get a room," she said, indicating to Regina "And meet you tomorrow morning. How far away is your ship?"

 

"It's moored in the harbour not two miles from here." He replied.

 

"Ok, that shouldn't take long then. We'll get the map then set off right away."

 

Hook nodded. "Sounds good to me." He stood up and rolled his shoulders back; apparently he'd been sitting in the same position for a while. "Well, if you ladies don't mind, I have some business to attend to." He polished his hook with the edge of his shirt.

 

He winked then sauntered off through the tavern towards the door.

 

Emma exhaled heavily. "Right, we'd better find a room, princess."

 

"Oh, an actual bed surrounded by solid walls, you're too generous, Ms Swan." Said Regina.

 

Emma rolled her eyes at the sarcasm but the corner of her mouth quirked in a smile.

 

The inn above the tavern had one room available, and so Emma agreed to take it and handed over what appeared to be all the money she had. Regina would have felt guilty at this, thinking of her bulging vault back at the palace, but remembering the reluctance she felt at the situation, she couldn’t bring herself to.

 

Handing over the keys, the innkeeper cast a curious glance between the two women before directing them towards their room.

 

In hindsight, she should have asked about sleeping arrangements, but being the only room available, there was nowhere else to go. Turning the key in the lock and swinging the door open, silence elapsed as they regarded the double bed in the middle of the minimalistic room.

 

"Well, I hope you enjoy the floor, Swan." Said Regina. Emma rolled her eyes, but noted the amiable shift in attitude.

 

"What gives you more right to the bed? You're not back in your palace now, princess."

 

The sudden silence from Regina went unnoticed as the blonde entered the room. She took her satchel off and threw it on the lone chair in the room, walking over to the washbasin and filling it with lukewarm water from the jug accompanying it.

 

"You gonna stand there all night?" She called back to Regina, splashing water over her face and washing her hands, ridding herself of the dirt she'd picked up in the forest.

 

Regina walked through the door, observing her surroundings critically. She perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed while Emma washed herself as best she could, then taking her turn with the remaining clean water. She missed royal comforts, that was for sure.

 

Peering out of the single small window, she observed the rest of the town, watching as the moon dodged in and out of banks of clouds. This journey was certainly taking it out of her.

 

Both were exhausted but neither wanted to take the first step. The noise from downstairs drifted up through thin floorboards; distinct but muted. Emma sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, fighting against dropping eyelids. She knew she had to stay alert, as trust was definitely not present in this room.

 

Eventually, the goodness in her, waning as it might be, won over.

 

"You take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor." She heaved herself off the mattress and went to remove the two blankets from her satchel.

 

Regina internally fought between a sense of victory and her conscience. She wanted nothing more than the bed to herself, being the least accustomed to sleeping in the forest, but she knew she couldn't just take it after Emma had paid for the room. Ultimately, she didn't have to decide which voice to listen to, as reason won out.

 

"I'm afraid I can't. You're my protection and guide out there," she admitted begrudgingly "And you need to be well rested to be as alert as possible. You take the bed."

 

Emma shook her head "I'm used to sleeping on the floor; it won't be a problem."

 

"Then in that case you should take the opportunity to sleep on a bed for once, especially since you paid for it."

 

"It's fine, princess, I'm not bothered."

 

"Well I owe you this much, come on."

 

"You've repaid your debt by coming with me to help, you needn't do any more."

 

"I'm trying to be nice here! I'm very rarely nice, Swan."

 

"Doesn't surprise me."

 

"You can talk!"

 

Emma sighed. "We're arguing again. We've got to stop doing that."

 

Regina nodded, muscles relaxing. "Agreed. We're hardly much of a team, we're supposed to be working together."

 

Emma chewed the inside of her cheek. "Ok, first team-building exercise then. We share the bed."

 

Regina looked shocked, then affronted.

 

"What?"

 

"We'll share the bed. It's big enough." Shrugged the blonde, completely casual.

 

"That's a stupid idea."

 

"Well have you got a better one?"

 

Regina paused to think; it would solve the problem of who would have to sleep on the floor, and she was so tired that she was pretty certain she would collapse within minutes.

 

"And it could be worse," added Emma "you could be sharing with Hook."

 

Regina considered that and masked a shudder.

 

"Fine. If you think it's a good idea..."

 

"I didn't say it was a good idea, just the lesser of two evils."

 

Regina conceded defeat and took her hair down, combing it through with damp fingers in an attempt to wash it as best she could.

 

"How have you lived this long without a hairbrush?" She asked.

 

Emma laughed. "The state of my hair matters very little to me. Where my next meal comes from is higher up my priorities list than looking pretty."

 

Regina couldn't help but feel disheartened at the wasted potential. She supposed Emma had her own sort of flare, however, a sort of carefree appeal, tough and hardwearing; attractive, if you liked that sort of thing.

 

"Don't worry about your silken locks, princess, we'll find somewhere to wash it soon." Said Emma, sliding her jacket and boots off and reclining back on the bed, the vision of nonchalance.

 

Regina glared half-heartedly at her. She tied her hair back up neatly and, having run out of things to do, cautiously approached the bed as though it were a resting dragon.

 

Emma snorted in a rather unladylike way. "Sleeping in your clothes, are you? Good move, you evidently learnt nothing from our conversation last night."

 

"Well forgive me if I'm not ready to strip down to my underwear in the presence of an almost total stranger." She retorted, surprising even herself with her bluntness.

 

"Well, once again, if you remember last night I've already seen rather a lot so I wouldn't worry about your modesty, princess. Especially since Hook'll be around for the foreseeable future, you better abandon that delusion pretty quickly."

 

"Well I'm sorry that one of us has some basic dignity!" She snapped, but reached round to loosen the ties of her dress nonetheless.

 

"Do you need--"

 

"I'm fine." She cut the blonde off shortly.

 

Stepping out of delicate black leather boots and thick red velvet, she begrudgingly took a seat at her own side of the bed. Without the cold bite of rainwater, her petticoat billowed out around her and she felt surprisingly more exposed than she had the night before. Green eyes were not judgmental, but Regina felt like she was being surveyed.

 

Emma reached over and extinguished the lamp on her bedside table, leaving the only light source as the lamp on Regina's side.

 

"So you're staying fully clothed then?"

 

Emma glanced over. "Why? You want me in my underwear?" She said with a raised eyebrow.

 

Regina didn't blush as the blonde had expected her to. "No, you're just a bit of a hypocrite, that's all."

 

Emma regarded her suspiciously for a moment, before clicking her tongue and shrugging out of her trousers and sliding under the covers immediately afterwards. Regina fought the urge to laugh.

 

"Well now we're in our underwear I think we should go to sleep and never speak of this again." She settled for saying.

 

Emma allowed a small smile to crawl across her face. "Good idea."

 

Regina extinguished her lamp and pulled the covers over herself. They lay in the dark, staring stiffly at the ceiling, making certain no part of their bodies were in danger of even coming close to touching. Emma sighed heavily and leant further back into the pillows, Regina rested her hands on her stomach.

 

"How do you know the Captain?" The brunette asked suddenly through the darkness.

 

Emma shifted slightly. It was a few moments before she answered rather reluctantly.

 

"He's...an old friend."

 

"That doesn't answer my question."

 

"I don't want to answer your question."

 

"Well I'd like to know in whom I'll be placing my trust for the foreseeable future."

 

"...Fine." She settled more comfortably. "Hook and I met a long time ago. He's a lot older than he looks, the perks of time spent in Neverland, but I met him when I was only just out of childhood. He helped me when no one else did. He fed me, clothed me, let me join his crew until I made my own way, and has since proved a useful ally. I live in anticipation of the day when he asks me to pay back the massive debt I owe him for everything he did for me."

 

Regina processed this new information. "Are--were you two...?"

 

"Hook is complicated and difficult to understand, but he's still just a man: men want things, men get bored, men get lonely. The details are none of your concern, I'm not delving into my past." She said.

 

"Did you love him?" Asked Regina without stammering.

 

"No." Came the reply.

 

"Do you love him now?"

 

"No."

 

They were definite negatives, but Regina wondered if they were honest.

 

"Can we trust him?"

 

Emma paused. "I've know him for nine years, and I still don't trust him. He's not a man of his word, but he has some goodness in him. I wouldn't have agreed to his conditions if I thought he was a serious threat, I would've found another way to get what I want."

 

Regina gives a nod that Emma doesn't see, and the blonde suddenly picks up on the use of "we" in Regina's last question, thinks on it but says nothing.

 

Regina wondered why Emma so openly answered the two highly personal questions on her relationship with Hook and yet was so closed off with respect to other areas.

 

"Why does he want revenge on the man who has your son?"

 

"Wow, that's a lot I questions in quick succession, princess. Since we're obviously not getting to sleep right away, I'll make you a deal. A question for a question; you ask me then I ask you. Complete honesty."

 

"What if I don't want to answer your questions?"

 

"I won't ask overly invasive ones then."

 

"Fine. I go first. Answer my question."

 

Emma pulled the blanket up to her chin against the rapidly cooling air.

 

"The man I'm after knew Hook a long time ago. Hook had an affair with his wife; true love he called it. She abandoned her son and husband and ran away with Hook. After gaining powerful dark magic, the man I seek confronted Hook, killed his lover, and cut off his hand. Hook's been going crazy for vengeance for his lost love ever since."

 

Regina inhaled deeply. "Ok, that's actually understandable."

 

"My turn." Said Emma. "Why are you here? What made you agree to my deal?"

 

Regina took a moment to think, twisting coarse bed sheets between slender fingers. "Because I wanted I escape so badly that I jumped head first into a dangerous quest with a complete stranger in the hope that it would get me far away. I don't know, my life hasn't been all I hoped it would be, it's almost like the call of adventure couldn't be ignored. I thought if there was anyone in the forest who could guide me and defend themselves then it would be you."

 

Emma took this in. "That's the first compliment you've paid me."

 

Regina chuckled quietly at the low standards. "It's true; you're mildly terrifying, and that's not something I’d usually admit to."

 

Emma laughed in response. "That doesn't surprise me."

 

Silence fell, but it wasn't as awkward as before.

 

"I'm glad you agreed."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yeah. Otherwise I'd be scouring the kingdom for some grouchy magic dwarf to help me with only Hook for company."

 

Regina smiled. "Well you're welcome."

 

She turned on her side to face in the other direction while Emma cast a pensive glance her way before turning to face the window, blonde hair fanning out across the pillow.

 

"Goodnight, princess."

 

"Goodnight, Ms Swan."

 

They were asleep within minutes.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Emma sat bolt upright, gasping for air, eyes wild, reaching beside her automatically for her bow. When her fingers touched smooth wood, she remembered where she was.

 

Letting out a lungful of air, she slumped back against the headboard. The nightmares came and went, not derived from the horrific moments in her life, but entirely fictitious, disturbing images and anxious situations that ultimately left her confused and afraid. She relished the feeling of control that she had in her own life, and so dreaded the loss of it when dreams took hold of her.

 

Attempting to calm her erratic heartbeat, she glanced over to the head of dark hair that was her still-sleeping bedfellow, chest rising and falling in a motion of repose that Emma found strangely soothing. The girl had probably had no reason to ever fear sleeping, she thought, she had no need of dreams in a life that was idyllic.

 

She then reminded herself of why Regina was here with her and the desperation evident in her escape attempt and halted her quick judgement. She was curious at to her companion's situation, but she of all people knew the perks of discretion, so wouldn't push for an answer; it was none of her business anyway, and it wasn't like she was concerned.

 

Turning her attention to the window as light streamed in, she saw the new sun just peeking over the hill bank that hid the sea from view. It was early morning, a clear and cold-looking day, a large bird, a breed she recognised but could not put a name to at that moment, circled over the fields. The lambs would by now mostly be big enough to be safe, but any late births or runts were in danger of being carrier off if the farmer wasn't paying attention.

 

Emma slipped silently out of bed, confusing herself with her effort not to disturb Regina, since she'd have to wake her anyway. She felt well rested, the first time she'd had a proper warm bed for a good few months. She was grateful for it, despite having to share it with her highly disagreeable bedfellow; an experience she hoped to avoid in the future. She always slept better alone.

 

After dressing, she woke the other woman, who did likewise promptly and without comment, and they descended to the tavern side by side, returning the key at the desk.

 

"We're meeting Hook at some point, but knowing him he'll be asleep for a while yet. We might as well acquire some...additional funds while we're here and have time. He can wait for us." Informed Emma.

 

The town was slowly adjusting to the day as they stepped outside into the street. Vendors and salesmen were setting up their stalls, milkmaids doing their morning rounds, farmers buying bread from the bakers before hurrying off to tend to their fields and there was a man up a ladder, slowly washing the windows of the town hall.

 

"Delightful." Said Regina, noticing that Emma had stopped to take in the tranquil spectacle. "Do you think perhaps we should keep moving, Swan, before something even more exciting happens?"

 

Emma wasn't sure if she preferred cold silence or withering sarcasm from the brunette. Regina was certainly warming to her...well...she was becoming less wary of her. Whether or not she actually _enjoyed_ her company in any way was a more puzzling question.

 

The town, which Emma realised she didn't know the name of despite having visited on several occasions, had a shop that sold valuable items, which Emma made straight for. Regina was about to ask what they could possibly need to buy from this rather unbecoming establishment, with its peeling sign and stale smell, but remembered Emma's "trade" and chose instead to snoop around the items on sale while the blonde bartered with the owner for the price of the wild cat skin. Once she seemed satisfied, she handed it over before pulling a gold necklace out of her satchel, holding it out so the early sun could glint off the sapphires imbedded in its pendant. The haggling began again and Regina found herself somewhat distracted from the tarnished mirror she had been examining by the sight of her thin-built companion arguing with a heavy-set man with a thick moustache and red cheeks over the price of the object. The way Emma spoke with such conviction stirred something worryingly close to admiration in Regina, who quickly shook it off and went back to exploring like a child in tow.

 

Once the trade had been done, the atmosphere lightened and Emma left the shop with a call of "Thanks, Carl." He responded with "take care, Emma!"

 

Hook was waiting when they returned to the tavern, the room virtually unrecognisable without half the town inside. Regina noted how he looked exactly as he had the previous night, before realising that she probably did as well, still not fully used to wearing the same thing for several days in a row.

 

"Alright, let's get going. We've waited while you lazed around long enough." Said Emma, eyeing him suspiciously as he twisted his hook until it clicked into place.

 

"As you wish, m'lady." Despite his attempts at being gentlemanly, Regina was sill aware of his ever more apparent narcissism, arrogance and semi-perverted attitude towards women. He hadn't, however, done anything worth calling him up on, and she'd met people who'd made her feel much more uncomfortable. He also appeared to have a twisted respect for Emma, and was yet to cheat them out of anything. Regina did not like him much, mind you she had met few people she liked over past years, and she didn't have to trust him, just cooperate as far as was necessary and block out any aggravating comments, thus refraining from scorching him with enchanted fire until he was just a pile of burnt leather, melted hook and kohl.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

The walk down to the coast was a refined stroll compared to the last two day's journey, although it was made infinitely more irritating with Hook in the lead. Regina dodged around puddles left from the heavy rain, trying her best to keep the hem of her dress clean, while having to listen to Hook and Emma's catch-up session, which was enough to make anyone consider running themselves through with one of the many arrows swinging tantalisingly close in front of her in the quiver on Emma's shoulder.

 

Discourse consisted mainly of Emma asking a question, Hook rebutting it with an innuendo or else inappropriately and intelligently avoiding having to answer. This was followed by Emma responding with a statement designed to put him down, but also showed how she was willing to play along, occasionally showing a flirtatious side to her that Regina hadn't thought possible existed.

 

There was definitely history here, and no doubt an interesting back story to these two complex people who appeared to have formed an unlikely comradeship. Regina had very little desire to learn of it.

 

"...and after kicking around for a while, I left. I ended up here through almost complete coincidence." Regina heard the blonde say.

 

"It's never coincidence when you move nearer to me, love. It's destiny." He offered with a sly grin.

 

Emma just scoffed and rolled her eyes, dropping back slightly to walk more in line with Regina, indicating the end of what had been an adequately long conversation.

 

"I'm sorry, I'm being rude." He said, looking back at Regina. "Where are you from, love?" He asked.

 

Emma cut in. "I believe I told you last night, Killian, that she is none of your concern." Regina, rather than being grateful as most would, felt belittled that Emma was under the impression that Regina needed someone to fight her battles for her.

 

"I'm intrigued." He said, roaming eyes demonstrative. "Why would someone like her be in the company of someone like you?"

 

"Someone like me?" Asked Regina before Emma could say any more. She pointedly ignored the angry scowl the blonde sent her way.

 

"Ah, she speaks!" Cheered the captain triumphantly. "Yes, love. You ain't from the woods like dear Emma here, your dress is fine, you look well groomed. A woman of class is a sight for sore eyes, I'll tell you now." He said.

 

Regina laughed rather harshly. "I can hardly be called that anymore."

 

Hook looked intrigued, but having caught a warning glare from Emma, who would rather get herself and her associates involved in Regina's life as little as possible, settled for just smirking while observing them walking along side each other.

 

"You two are a _very_ odd pair, you know that?"

 

"We're not a pair." Said Emma bluntly, and Regina made no move to argue. "We're together through necessity, and it will definitely not be a permanent arrangement. It is a situation purely of convenience."

 

He raised a hand and a hook in mock surrender. "Whatever you say it is love, I'm sure that's what it is. I was merely stating how unlikely a team you are. You make it work somehow, though. I'm still trying to figure it out."

 

With a smirk over his shoulder, he took a few lunging steps up the hill as they neared the top. Regina was slightly caught off guard by someone referring to her and Emma collectively, something she supposed she'd have to just get used to.

 

As they reached the summit, Regina was panting slightly while neither of the other two looked even remotely strained. Regina joined them at the crest and looked down into the quaint little harbour, fishing and trading boats bobbing about on their moor lines. It was fairly obvious which vessel they were heading for; there was only one galleon anchored up; a beautiful ship with a dark wood hull and swan white sails. Regina was slightly disappointed that the faint breeze wasn't stirring a skull and crossbones flag upon the mast; a little too conspicuous and stereotypical, she guessed.

 

"There she is!" Cried Hook proudly, ambling down the hill towards the docks. "My pride and joy."

 

Regina and Emma followed as he approached the Jolly Roger. There were members of the crew crawling over the deck, scrubbing and tying and pulling and shouting. The smile of Hook's face was as big as the sea itself as he took in Regina's ill-concealed expression of appreciation. Emma looked nonchalant; Regina reckoned she must be used to it by now.

 

The gangplank was lowered as crew members watched the captain approach. Several were singing over the top of each other; the words muffled and the tune highly questionable, but Regina felt excitement swell in her. A pirate ship, a real one, and she'd been invited on board by the captain. She hid her anticipation.

 

Once the three had climbed onto the deck, Hook greeted his crew and then, remembering his guests, turned to face them.

 

"Welcome aboard, ladies!"

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

"This is Emma and Regina, they won't be here for long, but while they are here, I want everyone to remain _civil._ " Hook addressed his crew. "If I suspect anyone's intentions are anything less that pristine, I will personally see to it that you are punished." His tone was light but from the shuffling on deck, Regina supposed he was not a particularly complacent captain.

 

"Right ladies, how about you two go down to my cabin? I have some spare clothes if you wish to wash your own, since it's unlikely they'll be a similar opportunity for a while. I'll brief my crew on what to do when I'm gone."

 

Emma nodded. "Thank you, Killian. Come on, princess."

 

Regina was getting sick of being ordered about, but she wasn't in a position to argue.

 

The floor swayed slightly with the gentle waves as the two women made their way below deck, leaving Hook to talk to his crew above. The ship was, as most ships; unclean and cramped, but after they passed the crew cabin and the saloon, the smell lessened slightly.

 

Regina chose not to comment on the fact that Emma knew the way to the captain's quarters with an apparent lack of thought.

 

Pushing open double doors, the blonde, in her usual manner, made herself at home immediately. She threw herself down in the chair at the captain's desk, swinging booted legs onto the worn wooden surface as Regina hovered awkwardly in the threshold, unsure of what to do.

 

"He'll have a washroom behind the screen." Emma said after a moment of silence, indicating to the section of the room partitioned off by an oriental-looking screen.

 

"So why are you still here?" Asked Regina suspiciously.

 

Emma looked affronted. "I'm letting you go first, I'm being polite." She explained.

 

"Oh, that would explain why I was confused at the unusual occurrence." Said Regina flippantly. If Emma took the prod to heart, she didn't show it.

 

The brunette took advantage of the facilities, washing her entire body and soaking her dress clean. She decided to do the same with her undergarments so called out.

 

"Miss Swan?"

 

Emma snorted and replied in a mocking tone. "Yes, ma'am, what is it that you require from me?"

 

She didn't fully process that this was the kind of address Regina was used to.

 

"Is there anything for me to change into? Just while my clothes dry." She called from behind the screen.

 

Emma was shocked at the change in attitude, but said nothing and searched for some of Hook’s more ordinary garments.

 

“He doesn’t have any silk-trimmed gowns I’m afraid, princess.” She said, tossing a shirt and trousers over the screen to Regina, who donned them quickly and without thought.

 

She felt uncomfortably plain when she emerged, clean, into the main section of the room. She’d washed, combed through and tied back her hair and the male clothes hung off her curvaceous frame in an oddly distorting way. She wasn’t like Emma, she could never look wholly comfortable in men’s clothes as the blonde could, but Emma realized she’d seen many people look much worse than Regina did then.

 

She smirked and stifled laughter all the same at the clearly aggravated expression that her companion wore. Regina scowled and stalked over to the other side of the room, sitting heavily in the armchair by the large windows overlooking the sea and trying hard not to think about what had happened in that room, and indeed in that chair, previously. Emma heaved herself up and went to clean herself up while Regina took the opportunity to look around the cabin. Hook was evidently a collector of numerous interesting things. He had a glass-fronted cupboard dedicated entirely to a display of delicate-looking equipment that on closer inspection, Regina assumed were for navigation, judging by all the spindles, dials and lenses. The desk that Emma had recently vacated had several maps spread out on it, overlapping each other, with a complex compass and a letter written in a symbol language she didn’t understand on top of them. His wardrobe was tucked away in a corner, grand and ornate, but the thin layer of dust coating it implied that it hadn’t been opened in a while, something Regina didn’t find surprising.

 

She found a certain thrill in exploring the cabin of a pirate captain; an experience she had entertained the idea of in her childhood, but had soon dismissed once she came of age. He had his own miniature armoury in a chest, containing a plethora of swords, daggers and pistols. He had keys hanging on a hook by the door that had no labels and could feasibly open anything. His bed was large and unmade and, despite telling herself she was being ridiculous, she steered clear of it. She heard Emma splashing water over herself behind the screen, and felt oddly comforted at this one growing familiarity in an otherwise completely alien environment.

 

“Finished snooping around yet, princess?” asked Emma, returning into view wearing her own selection of Hook’s spare clothes, which, as predicted, looked much better on her than they would have done on Regina.

 

“Almost.” Answered Regina, opening the drawers of his desk and observing the stacks of papers and various stationary. Hook seemed like an oddly organised pirate.

 

“Well once you’ve amused yourself sufficiently, we should go and find Hook and he can show us this map. The sooner we leave, the better.” She said, drying her hair off with a newly acquired cloth. Her curls now hung in damp limp tendrils, almost brown in colour.

 

Regina sighed and looked down at her attire with a grim expression. She hardly knew the man and was already wary of him, yet was wearing his clothes and washing in his quarters.

 

Emma noticed the hesitance and rolled her eyes. “Honestly, stop worrying. No one gives a shit about how you look here.”

 

“I know that!” Snapped Regina. _I care, however._

 

Emma guessed what she was thinking. “You’re a vision, my dear, an angel of such beauty they shall have to avert their eyes.” She said with a flourish, before heading for the door. Regina scoffed at the dry tone, but followed nonetheless.

 

On deck, several glances were cast their way and many members of the crew hurriedly approached to greet Emma and ask how she was faring, all of whom she greeted by name. Hook stood by the wheel, discussing something with a member of his crew who wore a red woollen hat and looked obscenely nervous. Emma showed no hesitance in climbing the stairs and approaching the captain in his own clothes. He caught sight of them and smirked and Regina realized that such an expression would have been repulsive had it not been on such a good-looking face.

 

“What a treat! I can’t decide if I want you to keep my clothes or if I want them back afterwards.”

 

Emma was having none of it.

 

“Look, Killian, we’re here for a reason, and we’d rather get going as soon as possible, so could we see this map now?” She said.

 

Hook glanced at the sailor next to him “That’s all, Smee. Just make sure we have sold plenty of it before our next voyage.” Smee nodded his head and scuttled off.

 

“I suppose you had better follow me then, ladies.”

 

Hook led them to a small door below deck that they hadn’t even registered on passing the first time. He pulled a key out of his pocket and slid it into the lock, twisting it and pushing the door open. The room was stuffy and the air tasted stale, unoccupied, he struck a match and lit the gas lamp perched precariously on a trunk. It was made up almost entirely of shelves and boxes, stuffed to the brim with a myriad of seemingly useless objects, although Emma suspected Hook would never keep anything unnecessary on his ship. He picked his way over to a chest at the very back of the room that required another key. Having unlocked and opened it, he began to rifle through the contents; predominantly leafs of paper and leather bound books. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a piece of yellowing parchment and handed it to Emma before re-locking the chest.

 

“There’s your map, love. It’s old, you may need my assistance.”

 

“I’m sure we can manage.” Said Emma, but on opening out the parchment, furrowed her brow in confusion at what she saw.

 

Hook laughed, the sound echoing round the small room.

 

“Confusing, isn’t it? Come on, we’ll go back to my cabin, I’ll talk you through it.”

 

 

Gathered round his desk in the captain’s cabin, Emma and Regina squinted in confusion at what was apparently a map in front of them. Hook sat in the chair, spreading the parchment out and examining lines and drawings he’d furiously poured over again and again until he’d made sense of them and had them practically memorised. He had decided that, if he couldn’t physically kill the crocodile, he could at least learn the location that he’d been trying to keep a secret.

 

“Wait, it doesn’t make any sense?” Said Emma, missing the way Hook tensed as she leaned over his shoulder to get a closer look.

 

Regina was equally puzzled. As a well-educated individual, she had expected this part of their quest to be the easiest for her to follow. The map was oddly set out: as opposed to the usual bird’s eye view of the land, it had fold markings crisscrossing it and distorted images that Regina thought she would have been able to understand if they had been of normal proportions.

 

“You’re not looking at it from the right angle.” Remarked Hook, and began to fold edges of the map over, twisting it round and folding it again and again over some lines, completely ignoring others. Regina felt sudden respect for the man; it was a highly complicated map and he’d evidently learnt how to read it, which would definitely take a certain level of determination and intelligence.

 

Once he had finished, he spun the map around and leaned back in his seat so the two women could get a better look.

 

The folding of the parchment had rendered the map slightly more legible. Trees depicting the forest that had been disproportionally tall before now looked normal, and the hills appeared raised from the page. Regina still struggled to completely comprehend it, but at least it appeared more like a real landscape now.

 

“He lives here.” Proclaimed Hook, pointing to a black dot drawn on top of a hill. “…And…we are…here.” He said, pointing to a section of the coast. Even on the map, the distance between the two points looked sizeable.

 

Emma sighed. “How long will that take?”

 

“It depends which route we take. If we cut across the hills, which will be more exposed and potentially more dangerous for outlaws like you and I, lass, I’d say just over a week, maybe two. If we go round the hills, through the forest, round the lake, past the marshland and through those villages there, a lot longer, but would be safer and there’d be more opportunity for food and shelter and information and the like.” He explained.

 

Unexpectedly, Emma glanced up and locked eyes with Regina. She was evidently debating with herself, and for some reason, staring at a silent Regina helped her to reach it.

 

“No, the hills are too risky. If we get caught in a storm out there with no shelter, we’ll be in serious danger. Besides, if exhaustion from climbing doesn’t kill us then the animals out there will, even with protection. We’ll go through the forest.” She decided.

 

Hook nodded, though whether he approved of her decision or not wasn’t clear. Emma had clearly established herself as the leader and this remained unchallenged.

 

“Ok. Then we’ll need to take supplies…”

 

“We needn’t take much; extra baggage will just slow us down.”

 

“We can’t go wandering of without any food or money--“

 

“I manage every day. We’ll take money, and if there’s nowhere to get food from, we’ll forage and hunt for it. You may be the navigator, but when it comes to living in the wild, I have the most experience. I bet this is the longest you’ve ever been away from home, isn’t it princess?” The last jab received only a mildly scathing look in return.

 

“Fine, you’re the boss. We’ll take gold and weapons and only the bare essentials otherwise. Should we have someone accompany us? Smee’s pretty much useless in a fight but he could help with carrying things.” Hook offered.

 

Emma shook her head. “Having a pirate, a runaway and an outlaw in the same group is a risk already, I have no intention of increasing the number of people on the guard’s Wanted List.”

 

“If you’re sure…”

 

“I am.”

 

“Good. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

 

“We’ll leave now.”

 

“I can’t leave my crew--“

 

“You were eager enough to leave them when you signed up for this.”

 

“There are beds and food here, rest for the night, we’ll leave tomorrow.”

 

“Then that’s another day lost and another day longer the journey will take.”

 

“You might as well make use of what I have on board before we go gallivanting off into the wilderness.”

 

Emma turned to glare at him. “You know what, Killian, I don’t—“

 

The rest of her sentence was cut of by an almighty bang, and the entire boat was thrown to one side, causing the three people in the cabin to grab onto what they could to steady themselves. Hook was immediately on his feet as the sound of gunshots and panicked shouting came from above. They exchanged second-long, terrified glances before rushing on to deck one after the other to view the carnage that had erupted.


	10. Chapter 10

It was chaos. Dozens of identically dressed soldiers were boarding the ship at a rapid pace. Many had unsheathed swords and were swiping at any pirate that they could reach. The crew had immediately leapt into action, wielding daggers and cutlasses and firing pistols wherever they saw black leather.

 

"Royal guards!" Shouted Hook over the racket. "Quick, get below deck! Both of you!"

 

Emma laughed. "Like hell! There's no way you're having all the fun!"

 

"Well get _her_ out of the way!" He ordered, firing his pistol with such precision that it struck a guard right between his eyebrows.

 

Emma grabbed Regina's arm in a death grip, dragging her down the steps and towards Hook's cabin once more. Slamming the doors shut behind them with such force that the glass rattled, she rushed to grab her bow and quiver, snatching a sword from the chest in the corner as she passed.

 

A passing thought swam through Regina's startled mind that the blonde looked really quite radiant when this exhilarated.

 

"Right, princess. Welcome to the real world. You've got to stay here. Keep silent, I can't afford to have you injured. Do _not_ do anything stupid."

 

Regina looked like she was about to argue but Emma held up a hand to silence her.

 

"Save it, princess. I've made up my mind. Stay. Here." She said, stern but not angry.

 

Regina conceded defeat. "Good luck, Swan. Be careful."

 

Emma gave her a smirk. "With any luck, I shouldn't need luck!" And with that she disappeared, streaming up the stairs to the fight above.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

The soldier's sword caught his hook and held it there while he pushed him against the rail of the ship, his dagger still an inch away from the captain's stomach due to Hook's strength. The captain’s sword had been slashed out of his hand and lay a few feet away, just out of reach.

 

" _Captain Hook_! It seems you can't hide from us forever." The guard sneered.

 

The captain would have retorted with something witty and arrogant that would have ultimately gotten him killed, but didn't have the chance to, as a whistling was the only warning before the guard slumped forward limply, an arrow buried deep in his back.

 

Hook pushed the body off himself and snatched up his sword, offering a thankful salute to the blonde, who stood at the helm in his clothes, blonde hair whipping about her face, bow in hand and possibly never looking more in her element. It was a breath-taking sight that he could only appreciate for a few seconds before he was launched into another fight with more black-clad, determined stupidity.

 

The fighting was disorganised and hectic, soldiers appearing from nowhere and yet the pirates felling one after another. Emma spun round when she heard another approaching from behind, slicing the hand off the one she was fighting and slashing the one behind across the stomach. She watched with a certain satisfaction as he fell to his knees, spitting out mouthfuls of blood. She would have finished him if she hadn't been preoccupied with the other, now a permanent impersonation of the captain who, angered by the loss of half his arm, charged at her with new vigour. She dropped into a roll, managing to bury her dagger into his thigh, sending him crashing to the floor to join his comrade who was now fairly stationary, moaning in pain and clutching his stomach. Their final cries rose together as she put them out of their misery.

 

"Emma!" Shouted one of the pirates. Connor, his name was.

 

He stumbled up to her, staunching the bleeding on his shoulder.

 

She saw where his line of vision was and ducked as he raised his gun, hearing the shot fired and the bullet bury into the collarbone of the soldier who had been creeping up on her.

 

"Connor, how many more are there?!" She asked, taking in the blood-stained deck with worried eyes. Hook fought on, seemingly uninjured. Bodies littered the floor; several pirates, a few of whom she recognised, many guards.

 

"I don't know! They just keep coming!" He said, firing a shot at two soldiers who had a smaller pirate surrounded. One fell, causing the other to look up in alarm and giving the small man enough time to hit him over the head with an empty bottle, toppling him also.

 

"We have the advantage in skill because we've had more experience, but numbers are definitely on their side!" He said.

 

"Look out!" She cried, reaching for an arrow on reflex and shooting it directly into the chest of a guard making a rapid ascent up the stairs, mace in hand.

 

The battle continued. Emma had little time to consider how the royal guard had found the pirate ship; Hook was impeccably careful usually and the land was so vast that mooring at a harbour for a few days rarely attracted any official attention.

 

As she thought it over whilst impaling a soldier on her sword and pinning him to the mast with it, she caught sight of the head of the legion; a position she'd come to recognise by the red trimming on his uniform. He was currently threatening Smee with his sword, the plump man trembling as he shakily loaded his pistol in preparation. Emma made a quick decision.

 

Running forward, she seized the leader from behind and threw him to the ground, quickly pinning him down with a foot on his throat. She bent down and held her dagger above him.

 

"You have about ten seconds to live. If you want to increase it, tell me how you found this ship." She said in an icy calm tone.

 

Face turning purple through lack of air, the leader choked out a reply that she couldn't understand, so loosened the pressure slightly. The weakened force was enough for the obviously strong man to regain his balance of the situation and push her off him, scrambling to his feet and picking up his blade. Emma was quick, however, and shot an arrow before he could fully process what she had done. It struck him where she had intended it to; his shoulder. He cried out and stumbled backwards, making it easier for her to pin him against the railings.

 

"I said," she breathed, face close to his as the latter's drained of colour. "How did you find us?"

 

"You’re Emma Swan." He choked through the pain.

 

"That's not what I asked you." She said, pushing the tip of her dagger into his stomach hard enough to break the skin. He gasped.

 

"We're on high alert, the Queen has been kidnapped and we are to track down those responsible. Pirates were pretty high up our list, we offered a fortune for information, it wasn't long before we were tipped off that the Jolly Roger was harboured in this town." He spluttered.

 

Emma frowned; high alert did not bode well for their mission. She had never cared about the affairs of the royals. She severely hoped whoever had managed to capture the Queen killed her quickly so the land could be rid of one more royal cretin and she could get back to her quest without the added threat.

 

"Have you seen her? Is she on board? I could make it worth your while if you betray these friends of yours..." His hurried, terrified ramblings fell on deaf ears as she ran her dagger through his vital organs, letting him collapse to the floor.

 

Seeing their leader killed ignited a last-ditch attempt in the soldiers, tearing sails and slicing ropes and killing crew members; anything to inconvenience them in any way. Hook carried on strong, Emma joined his side to tackle three particularly large guards, one of whom took a swing at Emma with his axe and narrowly missed chopping her head of. She caught sight of a small, severed lock of golden blonde hair drifting down to the floor.

 

Hook shot one straight through the heart, and he fell down the stairs, taking out another who had come to their aid. Emma shot another through the temple with an arrow and they both stabbed the third with their swords, one on each side, and watched with pride and a newly discovered bloodlust as he toppled over the railings and into the sea, creating a huge splash.

 

They'd been so busy that they hadn't noticed that the last few soldiers had run below deck until Emma saw them disappearing into the darkness.

 

"Regina." She said breathlessly.

 

"I'll go." Said Hook.

 

"Your crew is severely depleted." She said, indicating to the mess on deck, the remaining pirates finishing off the rest of the guards.

 

"Come down when you've seen to them. They're your priority, she's mine." Said Emma, panting from the exertion and adrenaline.

 

Hook nodded silently, dabbing at a cut on his cheek and taking off towards his crew. Emma made her way below deck at an astounding pace.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

There were five soldiers that she could see downstairs. She slunk through the shadows, staying out of their sight as they kicked open doors in their search for evidence of piracy. One of them carried a bottle with him, the content of which was unclear until he began to pour it on the wooden floor. He produced a match and she came to the correct conclusion a second before he dropped it into the liquid.

 

 

The flames leapt up immediately, climbing up wooden walls and forming a wall in front of the captain's cabin. Emma's throat closed up.

 

She ran forwards as the five burst through the double doors, leaping over the fire that had spread to inside Hook's cabin and was now filling the room with smoke. She arrived in the doorway just in time to see what followed.

 

Regina stood in the middle of the room, shielding herself from the flames with magic and sending balls of crackling blue energy at the soldiers who approached her. One struck a man across the head and blew it clean off, another hit a guard in the chest and blasted him backwards into the fire. Emma could see Regina weakening visibly, and so resorted to more common techniques. Sword in hand, she ran at one of the three remaining and plunged it into his chest without even flinching. She swung the blade round and slit the throat of the second, crimson blood spurting out and coating her chest and face. She approached the last one, Emma was frozen to the spot with shock, but the flames grew bigger and bigger and she realised that if they stayed for much longer, they'd be burnt to a crisp. She heard the guard gasp and watched with confusion as he looked at the woman before him; her face a deathly vision in the firelight.

 

"Your Majesty?" He stammered. "Ma'am, you must--"

 

Emma gasped audibly as Regina thrust her hand straight into his chest and pulled out his still-beating heart, the gold glow indicating magic.

 

He choked out a plea, but Emma watched in awe as Regina crushed the heart in her hand as if it were a dry leaf. The guard crumbled and Regina finally came out of her trance.

 

"Regina! We've got to go now!" Shouted Emma over the roar of the now overbearing fire.

 

Regina nodded and ran towards the door, before stopping and turning back, rushing to the captain's desk and quickly grabbing what Emma realised must be the map, badly singed by the look of it.

 

Coughing out lungfuls of smoke, the women stumbled out of the burning cabin, leaning on each other for support, and ascending the stairs onto the deck, clean cold air sweet in their airways.

 

Both collapsed and fell about coughing and gasping, rubbing soot from their eyes and mouths.

 

As Regina struggled to her feet, Emma stared at her with confusion. The crew took buckets of sea water below deck and set about putting out the fire, and once recovered, the two women assisted them, still saying no word to each other.

 

Once the fire was out and the sizeable damage assessed. Hook came back on deck and approached the two of them, sitting in bewildered silence as the pirates removed the bodies and started to scrub the blood off the deck.

 

"The map's badly damaged," Emma informed him, holding out the blackened parchment. "It's unreadable."

 

"Oh god, what are we going to do?" Asked Hook hopelessly.

 

"We'll come to that later. First, princess..." Emma addressed Regina, then trailed off at her use of the nickname that had become second nature but suddenly tasted bitter in her mouth.

 

"You have some explaining to do."


	11. Chapter 11

"Not in front of him." Said Regina quietly.

 

"Hey, whatever needs to be said can be said in front of me. You're on my ship after all..." Said Hook, breathing heavily as his energy left him.

 

Regina looked imploringly at Emma and shook her head minutely. Something in obsidian eyes made Emma falter.

 

"Leave us, Hook." She said, not taking her eyes off Regina.

 

"Excuse me--"

 

"Now, Hook! Please!" She hissed.

 

Hook looked disgruntled, but left the two alone.

 

Emma shifted her weight from foot to foot, observing Regina through untrusting eyes. Regina looked sheepish, and slightly ashamed for once, avoiding Emma's gaze.

 

"You've been lying to me." Stated Emma.

 

Regina didn't confirm or deny it. Emma sighed and rubbed her hand over her face.

 

"Regina..." She trailed off, contemplative. "Such a lovely name. So...elegant. So...regal. I know that name. I'd heard it somewhere. I couldn't place it, but it's not like it's a common name. It wasn't until he addressed you that my slow brain finally put the pieces together..."

 

Regina swallowed hard and for the first time since they'd met, actually looked worried. She raised her eyes to Emma's; a flicker of defiance still present.

 

"I didn't trust you. How on earth could I trust you with knowing who I am? You'd have handed me over in a heartbeat and I wouldn't have blamed you. The reward for my return would keep you comfortable for years."

 

"I wouldn't have done that."

 

"Now look who's lying." She said, looking up at Emma from her seat on a barrel. Somewhere in a dark part of her that was stubborn as hell knew she was right.

 

"You've led me on this whole time. Do you have _any_ idea how screwed we'd both be if we came across the royal guard? You were willing to put us both in that much danger because you were, what...ashamed?"

 

"I didn't mislead you. I just...didn't tell you the _whole_ truth...."

 

"Oh yeah because the fact that you're the fucking Queen isn't something that would come up in any of the many conversations we've had." She said, her tone was loathsome and bitter.

 

Regina had the decency to look slightly disgraced. "Emma, I'm sorry." The blonde didn't miss the use of her name, the first time it had fallen from her lips. "You're right, I should have told you. You had a right to know what you were signing up for. I can only apologise."

 

Emma looked like she was debating with herself, looking at the floor, out to sea, up at the cloudless sky; anywhere but Regina.

 

"So, the person you're running from..."

 

Regina nodded. "The King. You have no idea what it's like living in that prison."

 

Emma scoffed. She thought of the life she'd lived; being tossed from one place to another as a parentless child and then being kicked about constantly before she learned to defend herself and to fight to survive. Perhaps Regina hadn't been happy in her marriage, but a life of luxury couldn't possibly compare to what Emma had suffered.

 

"You're just a spoilt little girl out on her own for the first time since the silver spoon was taken from her mouth." She spat.  

 

Regina said nothing. It was not a good time for her notorious temper to rear its head.

 

"But Queen or not, I need you." She sighed. "I hope you understand that you've made this ten times more difficult for me."

 

Emma felt stupid, and she didn't like feeling stupid. She had every mind to throw the woman overboard, knowing that in the past she would never have risked sullying herself with learning to swim. The fact remained, however, that there was no way she could get her son back without magic on her side. This led onto another thing she wished to confront Regina about.

 

"When they came for you...I saw you fight them off...you--you know how to use a sword?"

 

Regina nodded. "I was taught by my father when I was younger."

 

"And your magic was...was it--?"

 

"Yes. It was dark magic. I'm educated in that as well."

 

This scored points in her favour as Emma thought of the benefits of having a dark sorceress on her side, however lacking in precision.

 

"You...you-- _ripped his heart out…_ "

 

"Yes I did. It's become quite a skill of mine." The flat tones in which Regina delivered this information showed no pride, but no remorse either. She sounded defeated, hollow, numb.

 

Emma sighed again; perhaps she had been too harsh. She quickly dismissed this though; the stuck-up little liar deserved to feel ashamed.

 

Still, there was only one way she was going to have her son back in good time.

 

She ran a hand through tangled blonde curls and looked up at the darkening sky.

 

"I guess Hook gets his way after all. We'll leave tomorrow at dawn."

 

Regina looked up, relief evident but unacknowledged. "But, the map--"

 

"I have an idea." Said Emma curtly before heading off towards where Hook had been standing under the mast.

 

Regina tilted her head back on her shoulders. The use of magic had worn her out almost as much as the confrontation with Emma had. She gritted her teeth and exhaled heavily through her nose, standing up and stretching before going below deck to the cargo locker where her dress remained miraculously undamaged alongside Emma's clothes.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

"What's the damage, captain?" Asked Emma softly. Sympathy, though not her strong point, was something she knew when to use.

 

"Could be worse. We've lost five men and most of my cabin is damaged, buts salvageable. It's bad luck that the map was out in the open. I'll need to restock my clothes and a fair amount of books and a few mainsheets that they slashed but otherwise, not too catastrophic." The optimism in his words was counteracted by the crestfallen look on his face.

 

Emma patted his arm encouragingly. "You did well, Killian. You did all you could."

 

"Thanks." He muttered. The guilt and pain of such invasion was evident in how unusually quiet he was.

 

"What were you talking to Regina about?" He asked, attempting to change the subject.

 

Emma shook her head. "Turns out she hasn't been entirely truthful. Nothing major, just something I was angry about. I'm worried I overreacted a little."

 

Hook gave a short, quiet laugh. "That lass is made of strong stuff, born survivor, she is. She'll be fine. I'm still not sure how she managed to take out all five of those soldiers, grab the map _and_ escape with you before she was scorched to a cinder." He remarked.

 

"It was...impressive." Was all she said on the matter.

 

"Emma, you're welcome to stay the night, but--"

 

"I get it." She interrupted. "You can't leave your crew. Perfectly understandable."

 

"We’re going to sail off, make ourselves scarce for a while until all this unrest blows over. I'm sorry the map's destroyed. You're welcome to take it with you if it's at all legible..."

 

"It isn't, but hopefully I can restore it. There's a lake not far from here. The water is said to bring back what was lost. It's our best shot."

 

"You believe that?" He asked sceptically.

 

"I don't have another option." She said, staring unseeingly into the distance.

 

"Well in that case, the two of you should go on. Make sure to let me know when you manage to weaken the Dark One's defences." He said.

 

"We will. I'll make sure you're first in line to take you revenge on him."

 

"I reckon it will be a very long line." He quipped. She smiled as a glimmer of his humour re-entered his eyes.

 

"Thank you, Hook." She said sincerely. He turned to face her and considered. He brushed a stray curl out of her face.

 

"Emma I know I spend a lot of the time being sarcastic and shallow, but if you ever need somewhere to lie low, or if you...I don't know...perhaps ever want a place to settle, the Jolly Roger's gangplank is always down for you."

 

Emma nodded in thanks, showing comprehension, before offering him a genuine smile and stepping away.

 

As he watched her walk away, Hook asked himself what more she wanted him to do, who she wanted him to prove he was just so she'd take him seriously. He knew that it would never be easy, and she was well aware of everything he'd done that he regretted...and that he didn't...and the way she looked at him would never change, he knew that much. He wished she wasn't so stubborn sometimes, but he was secretly proud of how she had grown from a skinny little urchin into the strong and frankly extraordinary woman she was now. In a way, he wished she hadn't met him when she was young, he wished he had a second chance to make a first impression. He wished he hadn't used her, hadn't asked for her body in return for his help. He didn't regret it, but that was how she would think of him now; an acquaintance who she could even consider a friend until he invited her into his bed. She deserved someone better, he knew, someone who wasn't decades older than her; despite constantly looking her age. Someone who was her knight in shining armour. He laughed a little to himself at this thought: if Emma ever came across a knight, she'd probably slit his throat and steal his horse. He hoped she was happy. He hoped she'd stay happy. He hoped she would find her son, hoped they would start being a proper family, something he could never offer her, and even if he did, she wouldn't accept. She'd just have to make it to the Crocodile's home without getting too antagonistic with Regina. The brunette may look delicate, but Hook wasn't sure who'd come out worse in a fight. The rich girl may be out of her depth, but she was certainly resourceful.

 

Who knows? Perhaps they would end up settling their differences and even build an unlikely friendship. The thought was slightly formidable.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

They ate with the crew that night. The alcohol livened everyone up a bit to the point where they could laugh and shout across the table while efficiently ignoring the elephant in the room, namely the fact that five of them were missing. Hook cheered up, Regina noticed the pensive way he looked at Emma, but didn't know what to make of it.

 

The blonde had been passive towards Regina since their confrontation. Not ignoring her, just avoiding interaction beyond minimal responses. Regina should have been relieved at the lack of inevitable bickering, but she felt bereft for a reason she didn't fully understand.

 

The atmosphere was tense as they lay in the cabin they'd been assigned that night, Emma in the bunk above Regina, both still awake but completely silent. Regina knew her explanation had been insufficient. She knew that Emma knew she still hadn't told the whole truth about her situation. Regina had spent so long hating everyone she came into contact with, the feeling of shame and what she would almost call sadness at the loss of familiarity, that of a common criminal nonetheless, was completely foreign and she didn't know how to amend it.

 

Emma was used to having her trust broken, and she would recover from this incident quickly, she knew. She wasn't like Hook; she wouldn't hold a grudge, especially not about something that was comparatively insignificant. However, she would look at the brunette -- at the _Queen_ \-- in an entirely new light now.

 

Both just hoped that they could keep their emotions under control, get this over and done with as civilly as possible and then part ways forever.


	12. Chapter 12

The sun rose over the horizon, setting the sea on fire. The light was thrown along the deck of the pirate ship, part of the jibmast carved out by the blade of an axe. A spare sail lay spread across the planks; half stitched back up after being slashed. Below deck, the captain slept in the main cabin with his crew, his personal quarters having been severely fire damaged to the point where his bed was virtually a pile of ash, and the only other private cabin having been graciously given over to his two female guests. The women in question were awake, despite the early hour, the blonde dressed in her own unconventional clothes and the brunette half-clad in her fine red velvet dress, facing the wall as the other tied her corset. 

Their exchanges after they'd woken had been icy, memories of the day before still fresh. Regina had asked Emma to lace up her bodice again, and it wasn't as if the blonde could refuse; Regina going above deck with the back of her dress hanging open on a ship of lonely pirates would not bode well for them leaving promptly and with as little fuss as possible. 

There was a certain tangible tension in the air as Emma wove the laces through the eyes of the corset. Her head was a complex myriad of ideas and emotions and worries, most of which centred around the woman she'd been travelling with; the "kidnapped" Queen of the kingdom. She was debating whether continuing on their journey was worth the risk as she worked away without thought. She had waited so long to find a way to get to her son, and now she had one, was she really going to pass it up because it got a bit more dangerous? Danger was something she thrived on, even needed, and though it was growing worse by the second, was she to pass up this opportunity because being caught by the royal guard would mean certain death?

She pushed these tumultuous thoughts from her head, focusing instead on the smooth expanse of lightly tanned skin in front of her. Emma bore the scars of a lifetime of accidents, squabbles and close shaves, Regina's skin was a blank canvas of graceful, unmarred perfection. She had the oddest urge to reach forward and run her calloused fingertips over the length of her spine, just to see if it felt as soft as it looked, an urge she only just managed to suffocate. 

She pulled the laces taut and tied them off without comment. Even trying to distract herself from thoughts of Regina led to her thinking of another aspect of her. She couldn't wait until the time when she didn't have to look at her every day. 

She moved away from the now-dressed brunette and watched as she tied silky hair back in the style that was quickly becoming iconic. 

"We leave after we've eaten." She stated, leaving no room for discussion, before striding out of the cabin, leaving Regina to sit on her temporary bunk for a moment, once more contemplating her situation, and the bizarre series of events that had landed her in it.

-*-*-*-*-

Emma looked forlornly down at the blackened parchment in her hands. The odd shape was even more distorted now and the lines and markings were charred until illegible. She willed her blind hope in the legend of the magic lake to be justified, thus restoring the map to something she could read once more. She mostly remembered the first stretch of the journey the map had shown, and was disheartened as the lake was off their path. It would mean another day's travelling at the very least, and that was if they didn't run into trouble. Having heard stories about the beast that guarded the lake, and the creatures inhabiting the woods that surrounded it, she wasn't overly optimistic. 

She glanced up to catch sight of Regina leaning over the side of the ship, soft sea breeze teasing errant dark curls from their restraints. She looked to just be breathing the ocean in. Emma wondered if this is the first time she'd ever properly seen the sea. 

The group of sailors working to clear the splinters of wood off the deck were whispering among themselves, nervous glances cast in Regina's direction. Obviously a young and seemingly privileged girl defeating five armed soldiers did not go unnoticed on a pirate ship, and was evidently a topic of discussion. The woman in question was aware of the gossip and the stolen glances, and had adopted the haughty expression of one who is forced into the company of those she considers beneath her against her will. Emma wondered if the distaste for the "commoners" who had housed her was genuine or just a defence mechanism. 

"I hope this water you speak of works." Said Hook over her shoulder, having approached silently. 

Emma sighed. "It'll have to, otherwise we're lost again."

"It must be nice to not be tied to anything." He mused after a pause. She frowned in confusion. 

"That is to say, I thought I was free, and then something happened and suddenly I'm tied to this ship, to the crew, unable to go wherever I like. I suppose everyone's got something in a way, but you've managed to do surprisingly well in avoiding it. Then again, you don't know that you're tied to something until you almost lose it."

Her eyes softened. She knew how much he valued freedom, and indeed how much he valued his revenge. It was Regina's fault that he would be left behind once more. She supposed it was partially her fault as well; she'd sought him out for directions after all. 

"Have you got everything you'll need?" He asked. 

"Yes. Thanks for the supplies. I'll pay you back some time, I promise." She said without looking at him. 

"Yes, another time." He said, loathing the suggestive tone that crept into the statement, but she smirked, nonetheless amused. 

He followed her line of vision over to the unhappy looking brunette. 

"Try not to kill her, Swan. She's actually quite amusing and although I reckon pretty much useless in the wild, not as helpless as she looks when it comes to defending herself. Besides, I'd hate something that beautiful to be spoilt because you lost your temper." 

She glowered and he laughed. He patted her amiably on the shoulder. 

"Come on, princess, time to go!" Called Emma. Regina turned to look at her, slightly taken aback by the return of communication, so much so that she complied without comment. 

The two stood before the gangplank, Regina carrying the satchel, Emma armed with her bow. Emma bid farewell to the crew while the brunette stood at the side looking impatient but apprehensive. 

Hook sauntered forward and shook Emma's hand, before reconsidering and pulling her into a friendly hug. Emma smirked. 

"Thanks, Hook. For everything."

"The pleasure was all mine, Swan."

He turned to look at Regina. "It's been delightful, my dear. Do try to keep your eye on your goal, it's very easy to get distracted..." He said, extending a hand. Regina hesitated, but decided that common courtesy dictated that she should shake it, so she did. 

With a final goodbye, the two walked down the gangplank and re-joined the land. Hook watched them hurry off over the hill, smirked to himself, then turned around to start the extensive repairs to his ship, his crew and his life. 

-*-*-*-*-

Emma had possibly never felt a silence as uncomfortable as this. She had come to terms with the fact that she was in the presence of royalty, and had decided to live and let live, to stop giving Regina the cold shoulder since it would only make this journey feel longer than it already did. Hook was a strangely profound individual when he wanted to be, and had got Emma thinking about a lot of things. Maybe if her and Regina couldn't be friends as such, they could still make an attempt at civility and comradeship. 

Observing the other woman out of the corner of her eye as they walked towards the forest to avoid the town and it's glaring eyes, she wondered how she could have ever looked at Regina and not known she was the Queen. Sure, she got involved in politics as little as possible, and so naturally had no idea what the reigning monarchs looked like, but surely she wasn't so stupid that she thought Regina was just another random knight's daughter? The way she held herself, the way she spoke, the innate elegance in even the simplest of movements, even the damn diamond bracelet! All the signs were there, she just hadn't seen them! She felt like screaming at herself for being so oblivious; carelessness like that could get her killed out here. 

As they moved through the foliage, heading in the direction Emma knew to be leading them to the lake, they didn't speak until they took some sea biscuits out of the satchel and Regina handed one to Emma. They ate as they walked. 

"What's it like on the other side?" Emma asked ambiguously. 

Regina frowned. "What?"

"What's it like in the cities? What does the palace look like? What makes up the other part of the kingdom?" The part I don't venture into.

Regina, just grateful for the conversation, replied. "It's...big. There are a lot of people, it's busy; there's always something happening. It is a lot more corrupt than it would have anyone know, though. The backstreets and alleys and slums are dirty and impoverished, the palace is built on a hill overlooking most of the kingdom, and after my marriage I was never allowed to leave the grounds. And before now, I never had."

"Wow, that's quite a big step. What gave you the push?"

Regina looked reluctant to answer, and Emma almost took it back, before realising that she had every right to the information of the woman she was assisting. 

"...it was my step-daughter's 19th birthday. A party was given, as is tradition, and she was the centre of attention for the day."

Emma climbed over a log blocking their path. She extended a hand to help Regina over, and the brunette pointedly ignored it, climbing over herself. 

"I hate her." She said simply, brushing her hands off on her skirt. "I hate her very existence. Every year that she grows older, I despise her more. Every breath she takes is a breath I wish she couldn't take. A day focused solely on celebrating her is usually too much for me, so I sit through the festivities, blocking them out and trying not to tear her heart out in front of a room full of dukes and lords."

She sighed, licking rose petal lips and kicking a small rock in exasperation as she passed. 

"It was too much. I have been learning magic for a while now and I struggled to contain it. She made a speech about the happiness she felt and the goodness of her father and the standard section about her mother and how much she missed her and how she drew strength from her memory. She had the audacity to say that no one could understand the pain she felt through the loss of one you love so wholeheartedly when you should have been happy together. She...she said it was something she would never wish on any of us--" 

The passion in Regina's words meant she had to stop to breathe and get herself under control. She would not pour her heart out in front of Emma Swan. 

"Dear god, what did the poor kid do to you?" Asked Emma, a sense of wonderment in her surprised tone. 

Regina shook her head, swallowing heavily. "I'm not going into it."

Emma clicked her teeth. "It's a very long walk, princess."

"All you need to know is that the hate is justified and I fully intend on getting my revenge one day."

Emma gave her a sideways glance and raised her eyebrow, but said nothing. The trees shrank closer together as they delved deeper into the forest. 

"Alright, I answered a question, and according to our agreement, that means you owe me an answer." Said the Queen. She had a way of talking as if she had the upper hand, despite the situation. 

"That was just that night. It wasn't a long-standing agreement."

She felt dark eyes on her and saw in them a mixture of irritation and pleading. This wasn't about learning of each other's lives, this was about making sure that neither felt more exposed, it was about making sure they remained on the same level. Emma knew this was the only way they were going to progress. 

"Fine. Ask away. But if it's too personal, I'm not answering it."

"How did he get your son?"

Emma debated whether or not to answer the question, before deciding that she had probably better let Regina know what they were up against. 

She sighed and thought for a while about how to answer. "I was seventeen when I had him; barely an adult. I thought myself in love, perhaps I was, but his father was a coward. He came from a long line of cowards, I suppose. He made a stupid mistake, so stupid that I had to get him out of it. He got mixed up with this 'man' and the only way I could get him out of it was with my unborn child. Our unborn child. I didn't realise that I could love him without knowing him. I didn't realise that his father would be too scared to help me try and get him back. I didn't realise that he despised magic so much that he'd take a portal into another world jut to escape it and what it had done to him, leaving me behind." She slashed angrily at the prongs of a fern that blocked their path. 

"I didn't realise how big a mistake I had made."

Regina silently processed this new information as Emma pressed on angrily. 

"I don't regret it; he would have killed my son's father if I had refused, and as far as I know, my son is still alive. At least we all survived." She finished bitterly. 

Regina went out on a limb. "What's your son's name?" She asked, her voice the quietest and most gentle it had ever been. 

For a moment she thought the blonde wouldn't answer, but a small smile blossomed over her face, turning her from an intimidatingly attractive stranger to a caring young woman, and Regina was surprised at how beautiful she was. 

"Henry.” She breathed. “His name is Henry. He'll be six years old now, and I've missed those six years of his life."

"It sounds like you couldn't help it. It sounds like you made the right decision."

"That's what I tell myself to keep me going." She said uncertainly, completely unsure as to why she was telling the obnoxious, demeaning, fiery young Queen all this, and hating the fact that her voice wavered slightly. 

Then Regina surprised them both by cautiously taking Emma's hand and squeezing it, before releasing her grip again. Emma looked confused at the uncharacteristically supportive gesture, but gave a small, reluctantly grateful smile nonetheless. 

"I'd better make sure we're heading in the right direction." She said quickly, dispelling the odd atmosphere that had descended. 

Without warning, she slung her bow over her shoulder and hoisted herself up into the branches of a nearby tree. Regina stood below her, taken aback, as Emma pulled herself higher and higher up into the canopy overhead. 

"I hate to question the expert, but what the hell are you doing, Swan?" She called up. 

"I'm getting a better look." She shouted down as though it were obvious, wrapping toned arms round the trunk and vaulting up onto another branch. 

She continued to climb until Regina struggled to keep track of her, obscured by green leaves. Her climbing skills were impressive; it was then that Regina remembered the first glimpse she'd caught of the blonde had been jumping down from a tree; it was probably common practice. 

Raising her head above the level of the trees around her, Emma breathed in the open air, wind whipping blonde curls around her face. She scanned the area, taking note of where they were in relation to the hills and the town far behind them. She squinted at the seemingly endless landscape of treetops, seeing what looked to be a break in the forest: she was confident that it was where the lake was. 

Clambering back down and dropping the remaining six feet to the ground, she massaged raw hands gently. "We're heading in the right direction." She announced. 

Regina sighed and followed the blonde as she started to move again. She wasn't used to the physical exertion over an extended period of time. Emma dodged round the trees and boulders with ease and energy, as if she hadn't just climbed up a pretty tall tree without breaking a sweat. 

Regina huffed as she followed her. "Some of us are wearing a skirt, here." She muttered. 

"Hideously impractical, I've always thought."

"Forgive me for wanting to dress like a woman..."

"Yeah. I'd like to meet the person who decided that women's clothing should be so restrictive and uncomfortable just to look pretty, and punch them in the face." She said lightly. 

Regina couldn't quite hold back the smirk. 

"Then again, you wouldn't know any different." Said Emma. 

"You'd be surprised." Commented Regina off-handedly. 

Emma turned to look at her, frowning. 

"I spent a lot of my youth in trousers." She explained. 

Emma obviously thought this explanation insufficient. She also found it strange that Regina, who must still be in her twenties, referred to her youth as if it was long passed her. 

"Excuse me, princess?"

Regina sighed, ducking round a tree to re-join Emma. "I wore trousers regularly back before I was married; they're much more practical for riding a horse, which I did day after day, much to my mother's disapproval. She always hated me dressing in an 'unladylike way'." She sneered. There was something unresolved there, Emma could tell. 

"Well it's something I condone." Said Emma. 

Regina was about to retort something along the lines of Emma condoning anything that meant a loss of femininity, but the words died in her mouth at the sound of a rustle in the bushes off to their left. 

Emma froze, instantly alert. It wasn't a light disturbance that a bird or something similar would make; it was the stealthy approach of something much bigger. Regina stopped, eyes darting across the undergrowth, immediately tense. 

"Don't...make...any...sudden movements..." Whispered Emma, as a flash of grey fur appeared among the foliage. 

Regina tried to calm her racing heart, panicking would solve nothing. Emma slowly slid her bow off her shoulder and with surprisingly little noise, fitted an arrow into place, holding it down, but pointing towards the disturbance. 

The rustling got nearer and nearer, approaching with intent. Regina could barely hear it over the blood rushing in her ears. Emma reassured herself that it was likely nothing. It was too small to be a man; probably just another wildcat or a small deer or something. 

As the two women slowly backed into a tree, Regina subconsciously moving closer to the blonde, a growl broke the silence and the Queen stifled a gasp that she wished she didn't feel the need to let out. Come on, Regina, she scolded herself; you can take care of yourself. 

Emma raised her bow and pulled it taut, aiming at the bushes. As they stood in silent apprehension, the culprit finally emerged. 

Bright yellow eyes fixed on them immediately, dripping mouth pulled back into a snarl, revealing dagger-sharp teeth. Its fur was shaggy and grey, its legs lean, its tail ragged, completely feral and obviously malnourished and aggressive. A wolf. 

Neither moved, neither dared breathe. They were easily bigger than it, but the ravenous look it wore and the ferocity with which is growled implied that it would be willing to fight to the death to sink its teeth into flesh. Emma decided it was better safe than sorry, and prepared to let loose the arrow. 

She hesitated, however, at another set of footfalls, or perhaps more appropriately "pawfalls", and another beast of a similar countenance padded out of the trees behind Regina. 

Emma's eyes darted back and fourth, assessing which was the bigger threat. She was well aware, however, that wolves either travelled alone, or in a pack. They rarely attacked humans unless they were desperate, and these looked pretty hungry. The stories of the victims of pack hunts that she'd heard swam to the surface, and were not something to be taken lightly and often made her stomach churn. 

As predicted, more of them appeared, encircling them, trapping them against the tree. Some were small and mangy, others were considerably bigger, all looked worryingly vicious and the way they prowled forwards, getting slowly closer and closer meant that they weren't here simply to scope out the new neighbours. Emma could feel Regina's side pressed up against her own, could hear her rapid breathing. She had to make a decision, and quickly. 

"When I say so, run." She said calmly, quietly, to the woman next to her who was trying desperately not to tremble. 

Emma looked back at the one in front of them, the one closest, the one at whom her arrow was aimed at. 

She released the arrow; it struck the creature right in the heart. 

"Run!" She shouted as the wolf collapsed and its pack went wild, leaping at the two from all sides. Emma pulled Regina away from the tree and set off at a run, jumping over the fresh corpse now oozing blood and taking off into the forest at a sprint. 

Regina ran like she had never run before, tearing through the trees, leaping over fallen logs, ducking round branches. She could hear the thunder of a surplus of paws behind them, the creatures barking and yelping as they gave chase. She stuck as close to Emma as she could, who loaded another arrow and shot it behind her without slowing. It wasn't as well aimed as previously, but grazed along the flank of one and buried itself in the hind leg of the one behind it. 

They streamed past the trees, but, as accustomed to this climate as Emma was, the wolves had centuries of instinct ingrained into them, and soon were catching up. More arrows flew into the heart of the pack, which now consisted of around six wolves, some found their target, some didn't. 

"Regina, we can't outrun them!" Emma shouted over to her. "They're too fast and there's too many of them!...Our only hope is to climb a tree..." 

"Easy enough for you to say!" She shouted back, fear and adrenaline gushing through her veins as she ran faster than she had ever done in her life. 

As the wolves got closer and closer, practically snapping at their heels, Emma made another split second decision. 

"Up ahead! That one! It'll be easy!" She pointed to a tree ahead, wide set and with some low-hanging branches; easy to climb if they had more than a few seconds to do it in, which they didn’t. 

"Are you sure?!"

"Yeah, trust me, it'll be fine!" 

Regina gave a small cry of fear as they got closer and closer to the aforementioned tree, not being able to slow at all. When they got within a reasonable distance, the animals hot on their tails, snarling and salivating and snapping their teeth together in anticipation, Emma leapt from the ground and clung to the tree trunk, scrambling up out of the wolves' reach on a thick branch and turning to help Regina. 

The brunette followed closely behind, and Emma's heart stopped at how close the pack was now. She held out a hand.

"Come on!" She shouted sternly through gritted teeth. 

Regina grabbed hold of a branch and pulled herself up the tree, reaching for Emma's hand. When there were mere inches separating them, she suddenly jerked back, crying out in pain. Emma lurched forward, grabbing her hand and pulling, catching sight of the wolf whose teeth were clamped around Regina's lower leg. 

Tears spilled down smooth cheeks as the wolf pulled with all its weight on the Queen's limb. There was a moment when everything suddenly went silent and slow; brown and green met in swirling pools of terror; Emma's apologetic and guilty, Regina's hopeless and frightened. All Emma was aware of was the hand that held hers in the grip of a last hope and those impossibly dark eyes that said that this was not how she had ever imagined her last moments to be. They both clung desperately to their only hope. 

And then the dainty fingers were wrenched from her grip and the Queen was dragged to the ground, the wolves converging. Emma saw her goal in her mind's eye; her wonderful, lonely son. She had to live for him. She had to find him. She had to save him. She couldn't die here in the jaws of a starving pack of wolves, trying in vain to save a virtual stranger. 

With these thoughts clearly in her mind, she contradicted everything she'd just decided and leapt down from the tree, jumping to the brunette's aid in a bittersweet re-enactment of their first meeting. She unsheathed her dagger and slashed at the wolves who had swarmed on Regina, currently too terrified to protect herself. She buried the blade in one and slit the jugular of another, but there were too many of them. She felt claws rake down her side and teeth sink into her upper arm, echoing the cries of agony from her companion who was futilely kicking the things away. Her vision went red, her heartbeat thudding through her head. 

Goodbye Henry...

A howl pierced the forest, louder and deeper than any pathetic attempts the pack had made, and it caused the animals to pause for a moment, glancing around for the source as the bleeding women did. 

Crashing through the trees and into view was another wolf, twice the size of the others, if not more. At least this one might finish us off quicker thought Emma through the haze of pain and terror. She reached out to grab a trembling, injured Regina, craving some contact in her last moments and not caring whom it was from. 

The massive beast approached on huge paws, blowing air through cave-like nostrils with each pant. The wolves had all turned away from their prey to snarl at it, fur standing on end. The monster's big brown eyes darted up from the others and straight to Emma. Her stomach jolted; she knew those eyes. 

Then everything was a blur. The monster pounced forward onto the smaller wolves, ripping and biting and clawing wherever it could. They swarmed on it, the women forgotten, clambering over its pelt and burying their fangs into its flesh. It remained ultimately unfazed, swiping and batting and growling while Emma and Regina scooted closer together, watching with awe and trembling. 

Pretty soon, the beast had sent the last of the pack scrambling off, wounded and sour, into the trees. It stood before the two of them, breathing heavily, magnificent and terrifying. Emma leant forwards, examining it. Regina remained frozen. 

"R--Ruby?" She asked tentatively. 

The monster threw back its head and howled. Emma's face broke into a grin. 

"Thank god! You saved our lives!" She said, laughing despite the pain. 

The huge wolf approached and butted its head affectionately against Emma. She smiled and stroked its thick fur. 

"Thanks, girl." She sighed in relief. 

The beast nudged her arm, she was bleeding from a bite mark in her bicep. 

"It's fine. It isn't bleeding too badly. I'm mostly just a bit battered. I'll live I'm sure." She reassured the wolf. 

Glancing over at her companion revealed her not to be in such good shape. 

"Regina..." She breathed as she took in her unconscious form. The skirt of her dress was stained darker with the blood that soaked it. Scratches marked her arms and she was paler than was ever going to be healthy. 

"Oh no no, no you don't. I did not almost die just to have you quit on me." She hissed. 

Lifting up her skirt, her stomach turned with the sight of the mangled flesh of her calf, blood seeping out at a dangerous speed. 

"Shit, Ruby, we've gotta get her patched up. Do you have a camp somewhere?"

The wolf nodded its head.

"Far?"

The wolf appeared to think, before shaking its head and looking towards the way it had come. 

"Right. We'll take her there then. I do hope you don't stay like this for long, I'm going to need an extra pair of hands."

She bent down and scooped up the Queen, ignoring the screaming complaints of the wound on her arm, and carried her in the direction the wolf had indicated. 

She turned round again. "Come on, you'd better lead the way."

The wolf bounded in front of her and began to trace a path through the forest, Emma carrying Regina behind it and praying for another miracle to follow another misfortune.


	13. Chapter 13

With a sickening sense of déjà vu, Regina came to her senses lying on her back in the presence of a blonde thief. Unlike before, however, Emma sat next to her, there was a roof over her head and she appeared to be lying on a bed of some sort.

 

She was instantly aware of the throbbing pain in her leg and screwed her eyes shut against the assault, biting her lip to stifle a whimper.

 

"Stop being such a drama queen." Said Emma lightly. "You're fine. You'll be up in no time."

 

She gently pressed something damp and warm against the wound and Regina hissed.

 

"I reckon you enjoy seeing me hurt." She growled.

 

Emma smirked, but Regina could see relief in her expression.

 

"What happened?" She asked, staring up at the ceiling.

 

"My friend came to our rescue. She chased the pack off. Oh, I should tell her you're awake."

 

She left the room, which appeared to be a small bedroom with standard plaster walls and the ceiling beams visible. Regina sat upright with some effort, and looked down at the lower half of her right leg and swallowed hard. It seeped blood still, but most had been wiped away and the wound cleaned. Emma had left the cloth that gave off the smell of herbs with which she had been dabbing the injury on top of it, and it was soothing. There was an almost perfect imprint of a set of sharp teeth in the otherwise flawless skin. The bite went deep, and still stung terribly to the point where Regina angrily blinked back pained tears. She inspected the rest of her form; she had scratches over a lot of her arms, but they were mostly shallow and already scabbing over. Emma had looked alright; overall, quite an impressive escape considering the size and ferocity of the wolf pack. Her stomach dropped as she recalled that agonisingly long moment which she had been certain would be her last. She remembered Emma's hand sliding from her grip, remembered falling, remembered teeth and snarls and fur and pain, then something else, something bigger, the monster driving back the pack, and then blackness. She must have been hallucinating. It couldn't possibly have been...

 

Emma returned, following Regina's line of vision and looking grimly at the wound. Following her was a young girl. Very young; younger than Emma, Regina suspected. She was also tall and slim, with thick dark hair, pale skin and a thin, chiselled face. Her lips were red, eyes huge and brown, and with youth had blossomed a beauty in her that Regina though odd for someone who evidently lived out there in the forest.

 

"Oh! You're awake! Good, we were so worried! Emma was beside herself!" Chirped the young girl. Regina cast a doubtful glance at the blonde.

 

Emma raised her eyebrows. "You may be exaggerating a tad there."

 

The girl giggled and practically skipped up to the bed. There was no way that this was the person who had saved them.

 

"I'm Ruby." She announced, bouncing slightly on the spot, apparently excited by her guests, despite the evident discomfort of the injured.

 

"Um...hello, Ruby. Thank you...for taking us in and for--...exactly how _did_ you save us?" She asked.

 

Ruby glanced over to Emma with what looked like a question. Emma sighed and shrugged.

 

"I reckon she saw enough. She's certainly not a threat, anyway." She said.

 

Ruby turned back to the bed. "I fought them off. I heard the commotion and recognised Emma's voice pretty quickly. I'm just sorry I couldn't get there sooner..." She cast a pointedly look at Regina's leg.

 

"We're just grateful you got there at all." Said Emma.

 

"We had probably better bandage that." Ruby said, before reaching for a clean rag on the bedside table and tearing into strips. Regina winced as she wrapped them tightly over the wound.

 

"How did you fight them off?" Regina cut straight to the point.

 

Ruby tied the bandages then sat back on the side of the bed, Emma hovering a distance behind her.

 

"I turned into a wolf." Said Ruby. Regina fought the urge to roll her eyes, before she realised that the young girl wasn't joking.

 

"What? A--a _wolf_?"

 

"Yes." She said happily.

 

Regina was silent, mouth hanging open slightly.

 

Ruby giggled again. "I can turn into a wolf. Well, I _have_ to turn into a wolf at certain times of the season. Not an ordinary wolf, bigger, stronger...more dangerous. I've learnt to control my transformation, but I have to live out here in the forest, away from my grandmother and my friends, just in case I ever...lose control...again." Emma offered the girl a tight smile that she didn't see.

 

"It's not natural, I know, and it's really weird and messed up but--"

 

"Hey." Interrupted Regina. "I don't care about what it is and whether it's considered evil, it saved my life. That's enough for me."

 

Ruby beamed again, instantly cheering up.

 

"Besides, looking at you I never would have guessed that you could turn into _that_."

 

Ruby's grin widened. "I _like_ her, Emma! You can keep this one!"

 

She picked up the bowl of lukewarm water that had been used to soak the cloth in and headed out of the door with a smirk, informing them that she would be back in a minute.

 

"'This one'? What did she mean by that?" Asked Regina.

 

Emma stuffed her hands in her pockets. "You know, other people I've travelled with, people I've helped, people who have helped me..."

 

"Oh so I'm not the first?" She remarked, attempting to sound playful.

 

Emma's mouth curved in a crooked smirk. "No, but hopefully you'll be the last, entourages really take it out of me."

 

"I'm sorry that I'm such a burden." Rebutted Regina with a roll of eyes that grew brighter and clearer by the second.

 

Emma approached the bed and sat beside her. "You're a bit of a nuisance, I must admit. We won't be able to leave for at least another few days. It shouldn't take too long to heal, not with Ruby's help, but we can't strain it while it does." She looked up at Regina, who was looking at her leg with a confused expression. Emma followed her glance and realised with a start that she had been idly tracing random patterns across the bandages with her fingertips. She pulled her hand back immediately and took a deep breath to shrug it off.

 

"Anyway. When you are better, no excuses; straight to the lake, we have to sort this map out."

 

Regina nodded. "That seems reasonable. We just have to avoid wolves..."

 

"Ah, they won't be venturing out of their home for a while, according to Ruby. She terrified them."

 

To Emma's surprise, the brunette laughed; a rich, velvety sound that she'd come to appreciate, mostly because it was much better than her shouting.

 

"The only thing that can scare a wolf is a bigger wolf. My, they're arrogant."

 

Emma smiled and nodded. "You have a point. Ruby said she's saved four other travellers from wolf attacks recently. They're getting hungry because most of their prey has been chased away and hunted by the army on their way to the ogre wars."

 

Regina had heard word of the front, but usually didn't ask questions. All she knew is that the war had been raging for generations, and it seemed that neither side could get the upper hand for long enough to end it. It was almost part of the kingdom's background now.

 

"How do you know her?"

 

Emma glanced towards the door where the girl had left. "We met when we almost killed each other. She was so impressed that she invited me to dinner and we've been good friends ever since. It's useful to have a pit stop in the middle of the forest. This house is new though, I've never been here before. Then again, it's been a while since I last saw her. I've been too busy..."

 

Regina nodded. "We seem massively dependant on your friends..."

 

"Connections are the one valuable thing one makes out here, because they last for life. We look out for each other."

 

Regina hadn't had a friend like that since the love-filled days of her youth.

 

"I'm sorry...for...inconveniencing you..." Said Regina. Emma was slightly taken aback by the sincerity of her words.

 

She shook her head. "It's my fault. I should be more careful."

 

Regina laughed harshly. "Not everything is within your control, dear."

 

"No and when things aren't, this is what happens!" She said.

 

Regina wondered if perhaps Emma had grown sick of not being in control of her own life. From what she could piece together of the blonde's history, she had been kicked around a fair amount as a child, but ever since she'd left the Jolly Roger, she'd been fiercely independent. She considered that perhaps the loss of her son had something to do with it.

 

"Ruby says we can stay here whilst you recover. She has experience in healing due to the...accidents surrounding her condition before she gained control over it. We'll set off once _I_ decide you are able to walk."

 

Regina, drained of energy and head throbbing with pain, nodded silently. She bit down on her lip to stop it trembling.

 

"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad, Ruby put something on it..." She glanced down at where crimson had already started to ooze through the bandages, staining tiny patches of white. "...or perhaps it can. God, I can't get this empathy thing right."

 

She called Ruby, who entered in a flurry of dark hair and white skin.

 

"Ouch, not much we can do, I'm afraid. I'll get you some laudanum which should numb the pain and help you rest, but I've cleaned it and it isn't deep enough for me to want to risk stitches, so you're just going to have to let it heal in its own time." She said, indeed finding empathy much easier than Emma had.

 

Regina offered a tight but grateful smile. Ruby is not the kind of person she usually enjoyed the company of, far too bright and bubbly, but she was so thankful for her help that she could never dislike her.

 

As she left to find the drug, Emma looked pensively down at the injury. Memories floated to the surface of Regina's pain-wracked mind.

 

"You shouldn't have jumped after me, you know." She murmured, leaning against the headboard, eyes shut.

 

"I...well..." Emma cleared her throat. "It's not like I could have just let go and watched you die..." She stammered, confused as to the confrontation.

 

"You could have avoided _that_." Said Regina, opening one eye to look pointedly at the bandage wrapped around Emma's upper arm.

 

"Yes but me getting a bit injured is preferable to you dying."

 

"If Ruby hadn't have come, you would have died right along with me, when one of us could have survived. It was a stupid thing to do." Regina informed her, eyes closed again.

 

"We're back here again, are we?" Hissed Emma. "I made a decision in your favour in a rare moment of kindness, and you turn it into a character fault."

 

"Like I said, it was a stupid decision, and I cannot thank you enough. It would be much preferable to die next to you than looking up at you. I was terrified, and your decision gave me momentary hope, and I cannot fathom why anyone would do something that selfless for me."

 

It was the most open the Queen had ever been in Emma's presence, and her admission stunned her into silence. Perhaps this...woman...could appreciate and even understand human goodness more than Emma had originally given her credit for.

 

Before she could respond, Ruby came bustling back in with a spoon and a bottle.

 

"This will taste vile, but it's mixed with mint and diluted, so just rest assured that it could be a whole lot worse, plus it should numb the pain."

 

She spoon fed the considerably disgruntled-looking brunette an appropriate portion, then screwed the lid on and turned to Emma, who was still observing Regina curiously.

 

"Come on, leave her to rest. She won't be much good for conversation within a few minutes anyway."

 

Emma nodded and rose. "Yeah, um...see you later, Regina." She muttered. Regina raised her eyebrow, tired but amused, and watched as the two others left. She settled back and waited for the pain in her leg to lessen and give her some peace.

 


	14. Chapter 14

"So where are you two going?"

 

"Like I said, I have to get Henry back, and she's gonna help."

 

Ruby cast a glance towards her bedroom door. "She doesn't look particularly strong..."

 

Emma sipped at the tea Ruby had given her. "She's like nothing I've ever seen...of course, she's not on _his_ level, but...I don't know, it's just sort of...raw power. Her magic's kind of scary, but her control is lacking. It's also fairly obvious she despises it and only uses it when necessary. Still, she agreed to help, and I'm not in a position to be picky."

 

Ruby smirked. "She seems...a little intense, and that's when she's delirious with pain, so she must be quite a handful usually. But I'm sure she means well..."

 

Emma rolled green eyes and rocked back on the back legs of her chair. "You assume everyone means well, Ruby."

 

Ruby shrugged. "I have to. It's the only way I can keep faith in humanity."

 

She said this lightly and followed it with a sip of her own drink. Emma decided to change the topic.

 

"How have you been?"

 

Ruby stood to attend to some broth bubbling over the fire. "Not too bad. Wolf season's been a nightmare; I killed more deer than I care to admit. That's probably why the wolves chased you; I've left them nothing to eat. Well, the armies and me. And I miss Granny..." She added pensively, slowly stirring the liquid round in the pot.

 

"When was the last time you saw her?"

 

"Two years ago."

 

"Wow, that's quite a while..."

 

"Yeah. It's kind of lonely out here but, it's for the best..."

 

Emma finished her drink and placed her mug on the table with a prominent wooden thud.

 

"Ruby, if I'd known, I would have made more of an effort to see you..."

 

The young girl waved a slender hand dismissively. "You've been busy trying not to get arrested and executed and I've been busy trying not to murder everyone I love, so it isn't a big deal."

 

Emma smirked at this.

 

"Hey, did you hear? Someone's finally kidnapped the King's favourite toy!" She said, tossing her hair over her shoulder triumphantly. Emma was almost certain she saw a flash of scarlet amongst dark brown.

 

"Yes. I heard." She said simply.

 

"The reward's _massive_. He evidently couldn't find a younger, prettier replacement. He's got the National Guard out looking for her and everything. I mean, I've never seen her before, but I doubt she's ever left the bedchamber..."

 

"You have." Said Emma without thinking. She realised that there was something odd about her leaping to Regina's defence, but honestly, the girl was obviously unhappy in her marriage and that's something that no one should be teased about, whether they're present or not.

 

"I have what?" Ruby turned to face her.

 

"You have seen her."

 

Ruby laughed. She had a full, wholehearted laugh, throwing her head back and holding her stomach. "I doubt I'd be able to forget that, Emma. I doubt I'd _miss_ her!"

 

Emma swallowed. Ruby quietened and drew her eyebrows together.

 

"Looks are often deceiving..." Said Emma cryptically, with a prominent look towards the closed bedroom door.

 

Ruby followed her gaze and did a double take, processing.

 

"...No...no, that's not possible..."

 

Emma nodded minutely. A moment of silence followed while the girl gathered her thoughts. She evidently decided attack was the best approach.

 

"Emma! Do you have _any_ idea how dangerous this is?! If you're caught with her, they'll _kill_ you. It doesn't matter what Regina says, they'll find an excuse. This is madness!" She hissed under her breath to avoid waking the slumbering Queen in the next room.

 

"I know, Ruby! I'm terrified! But I have to get my son back. We had a close shave on the Jolly Roger and Hook and his crew paid for it, but I'm avoiding anywhere the guard is likely to travel and we're keeping our heads down. I'm sorry, I just...I have to get him back...as soon as I can..."

 

Ruby looked uneasy, but took her seat again. "Emma, I understand...in a way...but I just want to make sure you're careful. For all you know, I could be a spy! Why did you tell me?"

 

Emma raised her eyebrows. "You wouldn't betray us. I know that much. Besides, it's been eating me alive. I had to tell someone, and since you've healed her, I thought I ought to tell you who you're using valuable supplies on."

 

The silence that followed was explanatory. Ruby disapproved. Of course she did; she'd always had Emma's best interests at heart.

 

"You should get some rest, sweetie." Said Ruby, furrowing her brow, huge eyes widening further. "You've got to be exhausted. I told you last night, you should have slept, staying up all night was pointless, I told you she'd be fine--"

 

"I was just full of adrenalin--"

 

"Yeah, sure." She said sarcastically. "You don't have to lie to me."

 

"I'm not--"

 

"You were worried about her, that's natural. You had a scare, it makes sense that you'd want to make sure she was ok...even if I told you she would be...and it meant not getting any sleep..."

 

"It's just...I was--"

 

Ruby smirked. "You needn't justify yourself."

 

She sighed. "She should probably eat something now..." She poured some broth into a wooden bowl and cautiously entered the bedroom. Emma stared blankly at the wall, she felt fatigue weighing her down. She should probably rest, seen as there were beds here and they weren't going anywhere in a hurry.

 

Ruby slipped back into the room. "She's awake, and feeling better apparently. I wasn't kidding, Emma, you should rest."

 

Emma nodded in defeat. "Fine. I'll just...check on her first..."

 

Ruby nodded, and once Emma had disappeared behind the door, smirked quietly to herself. She'd missed having company, especially that of Emma Swan. Something about the blonde made even the most mundane events interesting, and she was a woman who didn't judge, partially because she was in no position to, and partially because she didn't care where you came from or who you were or what you believed once she got to know you, just that you were her ally and her friend. Ruby wondered if she judged Regina on where she'd come from, or if Emma hadn't yet realised just how dependent she'd have to be on another human being if her plan was ever going to work, a feeling she knew the thief detested.

 

"You decent?" Came the question from the door.

 

Regina glanced down at the light dress Ruby had leant to her which was hiked up round her waist to expose her leg to the cooling air. It was nothing Emma hadn't seen before.

 

"Yes." She answered, tugging the pale skirt down slightly.

 

Emma entered and tucked her hands into the back pockets of her trousers. Regina was looking decidedly like a caged animal that was fed up of its restraints.

 

"How you feeling, princess?"

 

"Like a liability." She hissed. It would have been threatening if the situation weren’t so pitiful.

 

"I know it sucks being cooped up, especially after your whole 'valiant escape attempt' thing, but there's no way I'm carrying you to the lake. Ruby says we should be good to go in a few days."

 

Regina huffed, crossing her arms and straightening her back. Only she would manage to look regal in a borrowed gown with a bandage wrapped round an exposed calf.

 

"You've got to eat though..." Emma pointed out, walking closer to her bedside and nudging the untouched broth on the table.

 

Regina sighed. "I don't have the appetite."

 

"Seriously? How do you expect to get any better without eating? Don't make me feed it to you..."

 

She left the threat hanging, and it seemed to work as the Queen reluctantly picked up the bowl and ate a few spoonfuls. Evidently sparking a hunger she hadn't acknowledged, she promptly finished it all, and yet with an almost mockable grace; not spilling a drop and holding the spoon as if it were silver rather than wood.

 

"I just wanted to make sure you were ok. I'm going to bed. If you need me, get Ruby to wake me up."

 

Regina looked confused. "Why would I need you?"

 

Emma shrugged. "I don't know what kind of trouble you might get yourself into if I turn my back for more than a minute..."

 

Regina glared half-heartedly. "Enjoy your rest." She said curtly.

 

Emma nodded. The brunette looked much healthier; the colour back in her cheeks and eyes less blurred by pain. She made to leave the room.

 

"Emma?"

 

Emma turned immediately at the use of her first name. "Yes?"

 

"How old are you?"

 

Emma narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but decided no real harm could come of it.

 

"I'm twenty three."

 

Regina's eyes widened. "I would have guessed older..."

 

"Gee, thanks."

 

"No, I mean you're...competent, more so than other morons I've met who are your age." She finished.

 

Emma smirked. "How old are you?"

 

"Twenty six."

 

"Wow, that's quite an age gap..."

 

"It's only three years..."

 

"No, no!" She said hurriedly. "I meant between you and your...King."

 

Regina nodded. "He's fifty-three. I'm much closer to his daughter's age." Resentment laced her tone.

 

Emma's stomach turned at the thought. "Well let's hope we escape without him finding you."

 

Regina almost smiled. "Yes."

 

Emma slipped out of the door with a final goodbye and made her way down the hall to a spare room, where she promptly collapsed on the bed and fell asleep almost immediately.


	15. Chapter 15

Emma angrily carved the end of the stick into a point; a pastime that had frequently proved useful in taking her mind off things. In front of her, spread out on Ruby's kitchen table was the ruined remains of the map that would take her to her son, illegible and blackened. She had been stuck in the house for three days, Regina's leg getting continuously better, but not healed enough to move easily yet, and Emma was at breaking point through sheer frustration of being unable to move on. She shaved off more and more of the pliable wood until the end was dangerously sharp, glaring at the piece of parchment that would delay her even further through the need to repair it.

 

The front door swung open and Ruby skipped in, wearing a starkly red cape, the hood pulled up over dark hair; a look now iconic of the young woman. A basket swung from her arm and sharp white teeth flashed with a smile of greeting.

 

"I'm sorry, the herbs were further away than I anticipated. I got lots of them though." She placed her basket down on the table and pulled out three bundles of green plant. She caught sight of the map and noticed Emma's apparent impatience.

 

"I told you, looking at it will do you no good, it will just irritate you." She said, beginning to grind up some herbs in a pestle and mortar.

 

Emma gritted her jaw and continued to whittle down the stick with tangible frustration.

 

"No need to be angry at me, I'm just here to help. I can't speed up the healing process any more than I already have." She said in a singsong tone that grated on Emma's fragile nerves.

 

"How far did you say the lake is from here?"

 

"Not far."

 

"Can't you be more specific?"

 

"No. I’m not well informed enough."

 

"I thought you knew the woods."

 

"I do, but--"

 

"But not enough to actually be _useful_!"

 

"Don't shout at me, I've done nothing wrong." She said calmly.

 

"I'm not shouting!"

 

"It sounds like you are!"

 

"I'm just sick of sitting around and doing nothing!"

 

"Well you can't go anywhere because Regina isn't fit to travel--"

 

"I know!"

 

Ruby hadn't glanced up from what she was doing; she was used to Emma's temper.

 

"Stop acting like a child."

 

"That's rich coming from the person who thinks it's fun us all being stuck here."

 

"I don't think that. You're just aggravated, Emma."

 

"Telling me I'm aggravated doesn't make me any calmer!"

 

"Well it's the truth. You're not listening to reason!"

 

"Stop treating me like a child you're babysitting!"

 

"Then stop acting like one!"

 

"What on _earth_ is everyone shouting about?!"

 

Two heads snapped towards the bedroom door. Regina was standing in the doorway, supporting herself against the frame, and a little pale, but undoubtedly _standing_. Ruby's eyebrows drew together.

 

"You...you can walk?"

 

"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes." Replied Regina.

 

Emma hadn't realised that she had shorn the end of the stick off until the wooden point hit the table.

 

"But...it should be _days_ before you can put any weight on it..."

 

Regina shrugged, leaning more heavily against the doorframe. "I've always healed quickly...well, since I started using magic."

 

Ruby shook her head. "Don't overstrain yourself, you shouldn't be up yet, you'll aggravate the wound." She hurried over and offered the Queen an arm, helping her over to the table and into a rickety wooden chair.

 

"I wouldn't have had to move if I hadn't thought you two were about a second away from blowing the house down."

 

Emma cast a sheepish glance at Ruby, who gave a tight smile.

 

"We've all been in a confined space for three days, you two want to get going and can't, tensions are high, it was just an argument."

 

Ruby went back to grinding herbs. Emma smiled ironically. "Certainly not our first."

 

Ruby smirked over her shoulder at her. "Definitely won't be our last."

 

"Well I'm an invalid here, keep it down while I'm trying to recover from my traumatic experience!" Said Regina over-dramatically.

 

Ruby laughed. "You hobbled out here to tell us to shut up, I think you're on your way to recovery."

 

"Yep. She's complaining; definitely getting back to normal." Said Emma with a smirk at Regina.

 

She felt the burden lift slightly. Ruby always cheered her up, despite their petty arguments, but she never thought Regina might be the one bringing solace to the mismatched household.  

 

Ruby had stirred the herbs into boiling water and placed it in front of Regina along with some bread and butter. The Queen took a hesitant sip and immediately grimaced. Emma found her still heavily-present royal standards of accommodation amusing to no end.

 

"Ah ah, all of it." Chided Ruby when she tried to push the mug away from her. The older brunette scowled and appeared to drink the rest out of spite. Emma stifled a chuckle at her distasteful expression, before frowning at how weirdly familial this all felt.

 

She cleared we throat. "Since she's too stubborn to even _heal_ at a normal rate, what's your new estimated time of full recovery?"

 

Ruby chewed her lip as she thought. "I'd give it another two days. We'll see how it is then, but it may need longer. Let me check, actually."

 

Regina rolled her eyes at the disturbance to her temporary tranquillity and lifted her leg onto the empty chair in front of her. Ruby began to unwrap the bandage while Regina winced from the disturbance of the wound. Emma watched with apprehension as the binding was pulled away, finding herself almost admiring long smooth bare legs that had probably never climbed a tree in their life with something that she wasn't a hundred percent sure was envy.

 

She needed to get out of this cottage.

 

Ruby inspected the wound, which was still prominent, but no longer oozing blood at an alarming rate and thankfully didn't look irritated.

 

"It actually looks pretty good!" The girl diagnosed. "It's not infected, so that's a good sign. Still painful though?" She pressed the pad of her finger against it and Regina sucked in a breath she had evidently tried not to draw attention to. Ruby nodded.

 

"Yeah, of course it is. Your leg _was_ nearly torn off by a wolf after all..."

 

Regina swallowed hard and stared down at the limb she hadn't realised she would have missed. Ruby stared at the wound critically and analytically. Emma just stared.

 

"Well, I'll redress it, then you honestly must rest it, I can't do everything for you." Said Ruby brightly.

 

Regina mumbled something irritably under her breath that was along the lines of her displeasure that a child was ordering her around, but allowed herself to be helped back though to her temporary bedroom.

 

Emma looked at the end of the stick, the point having been snapped clean off, picked up her knife, and started afresh.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Emma was certain she had been here for two years at least. She had been spending increasingly longer amounts of time outside the cottage, roaming the forest, hunting, generally trying to occupy herself as the weather got warmer and the wound got better and her son got older. Impatience was something the blonde had always suffered from, unsettled by staying in the same place for too long when something called her.

 

She leant her chin more heavily on her palm as she watched the cause of her frustration from across the room. She was almost used to seeing Regina wearing Ruby's dresses; hers being clean now but less practical when it came to treating an injured leg. The Queen was sitting stiff and still, eyes focused on the candle in front of her as though caught in some bizarre staring contest. Emma groaned.

 

"You've been at this for hours, princess."

 

Regina took a while to reply. "I'm concentrating. Shut up."

 

Emma was too bored to retort to the harsh tone.

 

A few minutes later, when the fatigued silence had continued and Regina still hadn't moved, she cracked.

 

"Oh for god's sake, come on!"

 

Regina frowned and flicked her hand upwards and almost instantly, the candle lit.

 

Unfortunately, most of the table did as well.

 

"Shit, Regina!" She shrieked, leaping away from the wood, currently ablaze.

 

Regina began to panic, moving her hands erratically as she thought of a solution. She raised her arms then brought them sweeping down, along with a vast quantity of water that she had conjured from thin air. The table was engulfed and the fire immediately extinguished, leaving behind charred, damp wood. Regina bit her lip.

 

"This is why you shouldn't distract me, Swan." She hissed.

 

Emma inspected the damaged furniture item. "You've really got to get a lid on that. Your control is atrocious."

 

Regina rounded on her. "This is my fault?"

 

Emma nodded. "Well, you set the damn thing on fire!"

 

Regina looked affronted. "Because you were screaming at me!"

 

"Because you were frustrating me! You've got to learn to control it if we're ever going to succeed!"

 

" _You've_ got to learn to control your temper if we're ever going to succeed!"

 

"You're one to talk!"

 

"You're provoking me!"

 

"And you nearly burnt us to a crisp! I've had enough of that this journey, thank you very much!"

 

"Well at least now you know not to disturb me."

 

"Maybe if you were a bit better at this, I wouldn't have had to!" Emma knew she was being unreasonable, but was tired of being cooped up and bored.

 

Regina bristled at the comment and surged to her feet. "Don't provoke me further, Swan."

 

Emma was about to do just that, before the realisation hit her, jaw dropping slightly as her eyes travelled downward.

 

Regina looked momentarily confused. She followed the blonde's gaze down to her leg, then gasped.

 

"But...but…it should be _days_ before..." Emma stammered.

 

Regina stood upright, entirely unsupported, and felt only the slightest twinges of discomfort. She experimentally leant more of her weight on it.

 

"It's...wait a minute..."

 

She sat down again, Emma striding over to get a better look. Pulling off the bandages, both stared in confused wonderment at the almost completely healed bite mark.

 

"How the hell did you do that...?"

 

Regina was lost for words. "This morning when Ruby changed the bandages...it was _much_ worse than this..."

 

Regina ran her fingers along the marks still present but hardly red at all and almost entirely healed over. Emma didn't think before doing the same, and was so perplexed by the mended skin that she didn't notice Regina look at her and swallow hard.

 

"It's like..."

 

"...magic." The brunette finished for her.

 

It was at this point that Ruby entered in her usual flagrant and excitable manner, grinning brightly and slamming the door shut once in the kitchen. She startled the two other women, who stepped a larger distance apart while Ruby's eyes flicked between the two with suspicion.

 

"Interrupting something, was I?" She smirked and raised her eyebrows. Emma blushed, Regina bristled.

 

"No. We were just looking at her leg." Said Emma.

 

Ruby nodded. "I could see that..."

 

"Look, Ruby." Regina cut in, gesturing to her limb. Ruby approached and gasped when her gaze fell on newly repaired skin.

 

"...that's impossible...this morning it was...well, worse. A lot worse." She was bemused, eyes narrowed, staring down.

 

"What caused this?" She asked, without taking her eyes off the wound.

 

Emma was about to answer that she had no clue, but Regina got there quicker. "I have an idea..."

 

Ruby slumped down in the chair next to Regina, whilst Emma remained standing over the two.

 

"Heightened emotions evidently cause a flux in magic. Emma aggravated me and caused me to overuse magic, and it apparently speeds up the healing process..."

 

Ruby was still and silent as she took this all in. "What were you using magic for?"

 

Regina cast a guilty glance at the table, which had only then been brought to its owner's attention.

 

"....what the _hell_ have you done to my table?!"

 

"I was trying to light a candle." She indicated to the lump of soft wax standing where the candle had been. "As I said, Emma provoked me and I lost control...slightly..."

 

Ruby ran a hand over the still warm, damp and scorched wood and sighed in distress. "I can't leave you two alone for ten minutes before you've almost burnt the house down!" There was an annoyance in her tone, but fury was absent.

 

"I apologise. I didn't realise I would do so much damage..."

 

Ruby shrugged, though still looked slightly disheartened. "It still functions as a table; that's what's important. If it collapses, I'll just replace it. It's no matter."

 

Regina was continuously shocked by this woman's incredible ability to forgive and gain friendship so easily. It was certainly not a trait the Queen was used to.

 

"Still, now at least we know that all we have to do to heal you is to sufficiently annoy you." She said playfully, her smirk was back, Emma echoed it with her own, Regina shook her head disapprovingly.

 

"Wait, does this mean we can leave?" Emma asked.

 

Ruby ran another distracted touch across her tabletop. "Yes, I suppose it does." She said. "Can you walk ok, Regina?"

 

Regina shifted her weight from foot to foot, and walked round to the opposite side of the table. The lack of pain was glorious.

 

"Yes. I can hardly feel anything..."

 

"It's truly miraculous!" Announced Ruby.

 

Emma found herself smiling. "Well, now there is no excuse for laziness. We'll leave tomorrow morning."

 

Regina would definitely miss home comforts such as properly prepared food and soft beds and the option to wash properly, but was equally eager to get on with the next stage of their journey. Looking out of the window, she saw dark looming trees forming an unfamiliar forest full of unknown dangers and potential threats. After this escapade, however, she felt slightly more ready to take them on.

 

That evening, Ruby made them a large meal to keep them going, and they sat together in the fading light, in the comfortable warmth of the fire in the main room, talking amiably and exchanging experiences. Regina watched the other's interaction with envy; she had never had the opportunity to make a friendship as strong as theirs obviously was. The closest she had ever got to a long-term friendship of any kind was Daniel...and look how well that turned out...

 

Ruby and Emma were startlingly alike, despite Emma's gruff and merciless nature contrasting with Ruby's constant bubbly attitude to everything. Both were children of the forest, both had been forced to deal with isolation, both had family they had to protect at all costs, really it was no wonder they had forged such a bond. Regina was unsure whether or not she was comfortable with the idea of similarly trusting someone so completely, and realised she didn't have to consider it, since she would be escaping all she knew pretty soon, hence was perfectly content with simply watching from a distance. Besides, the firelight animated Emma in an admirable way, flames dancing across high cheekbones and touching the end of long lashes.  

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

The next morning they packed and rechecked the wound, confirming that it was still miraculously healed. They ate and washed and stalled until Emma decided it was about time they left and continued their journey.

 

Regina waited outside in her own, clean dress, adjusting her boot so it wouldn't rub against her bandages.  Emma packed the satchel in the kitchen, Ruby standing nearby.

 

"If you ever need a place to stay..."

 

Emma smiled. "I know, I'll come straight to you."

 

Ruby grinned and nodded. "It's actually been really nice having company. I've missed you a lot, and Regina's not half bad when you get to know her!"

 

Emma's smile widened. "Easy for you to say, you aren't stuck with her."

 

Ruby's expression softened into one of genuine sincerity, an odd thing to see on her face. "Thank you, Emma. I needed someone to talk to, and I've appreciated your company so much..."

 

"It's me who should be thanking you. You saved our lives back at the clearing, then her life with your medicine, and by extension, my chance of getting my son back. We'd probably both be dead without you, and it's the least I can do to come and visit sometime, now I know I'm welcome."

 

"You certainly are." Said the girl contemplatively. She pulled the blonde into a hug of affection and warmth, a type of embrace that Emma had been bereft of for longer than she'd care to think about. When she pulled back to look at her friend, she was struck by the good of humanity, and how it may manifest itself in the oddest of places.

 

With renewed supplies, energy and morale, Regina and Emma set off once more into the forest on route to their next destination.


	17. Chapter 17

"So, this wondrous lake you speak so highly of..."

 

"Yes?" Emma rolled her eyes, only a few hours back into their journey and already the sarcasm was back. In a way she missed the brunette being in pain; at least it shut her and her cynicism up for five minutes.

 

"You _definitely_ know where it is?"

 

"Yes."

 

"And we're _definitely_ going in the right direction?"

 

"Yes."

 

"And it will _definitely_ restore the map?"

 

"I don't know, princess. I'm going on a hunch." She drawled from her position ahead of Regina, climbing up over a flat of rock. She was alert and aware, much more so than she normally would be walking through the forest, bow at the ready and periodically glancing to either side of them. She was not taking any risks; she doubted they would be so lucky again if they came across another threat.

 

"Look, I'm just going on what I've been told." She said.

 

Regina fell silent. She was lagging behind, stumbling slightly on her leg, which Emma did pity a little, but not enough to noticeably change her attitude.

 

She turned to look at the Queen. "You want me to carry you, princess?"

 

Regina pulled agitatedly at her skirt. "Not in a million years."

 

"Well hurry up then, I'd like to get there before nightfall." She rolled her eyes and turned back round to continue.

 

"Perhaps if you let me rest for a moment..." Regina grumbled under her breath. Emma, hearing instinctual and heightened by her lifestyle, picked it up.

 

"What was that?"

 

Regina huffed. "I _have_ had my leg savaged by a pack of wolves, you know. Magically healed or not, I can't sprint across the forest just yet..."

 

Emma sighed in defeat. "Fine. Stop for a minute, gather your strength, whatever you want, but don't get comfortable."

 

Regina exhaled heavily. She perched precariously on a jagged rock, wincing at the discomfort. Emma put her hands on her hips and bit the inside of her cheek in impatience. This woman had been more a liability than an asset so far.

 

She settled for leaning against a tree and waiting for her companion to pull herself together.

 

There was certain integrity in the way Regina rolled her head back on her shoulders, an undoubtedly regal flourish in the sweep of her neck. Large brown eyes slid shut in repose and full lips parted as she sighed her discomfort. Her hair was still tied up out of her face, obsidian curls escaping to twist round her jawline, and despite having been living as an outlaw for the best part of a week, she showed surprisingly few side effects of the change of environment. She rubbed at the tight waistline of her bodice, whalebone making its sharp edges known in delicate skin. Emma's eyes followed the path of dainty hands with curiosity; she'd had very few chances to see someone like Regina close up and out-of-place, the _Queen_ none the less, and it was like seeing a goat wearing the most elaborately crafted tiara. Somehow, however, it wasn't nearly as mockable. She could imagine the brunette at royal balls and fine dinner parties, strolling through her neatly trimmed gardens in a dress to be worn once and costing more than Emma was worth entirely, yet out here in the forest, though different, it seemed the scenery also complimented her. Of course, she looked helpless and lost, but the rich green of the foliage, the brush of a light breeze, the nature teeming around her seemed to bend to her in a sense, contrasting yet welcoming the strange Queen. Emma had seen much in her short life, too much, perhaps, and yet the striking, pure, unhindered beauty of the woman she'd almost grown accustomed to having hanging around her still struck her slightly. She wondered whether she would have preferred an ugly accomplice; less of a distraction, but not nearly so aesthetically pleasing, and one could get tired of looking at trees...

 

Emma swallowed hard and gritted her teeth. Beautiful or not, this woman was not to be trusted, not to be underestimated, and _certainly_ not to be complimented. She was growing used to her presence, sure, but that didn't mean she had to _enjoy_ it. She reminded herself not to be fooled by appearances; the Queen was still irritating, stubborn and dangerous, and not to be admired in any way. Emma was pretty certain she _didn't_ admire her, Regina was lucky she didn't _hate_ her, purely for being the way she was.

 

Emma just had to get her son back and thus be soon rid of her latest burden.  

 

"Preferably before the map disintegrates through age." She quipped. Regina looked disgruntled, but composed herself and stood again. Emma shook off the thoughts of the last few minutes.

 

"It's a few miles further." She sighed.

 

Once they were walking again, trekking in comfortable silence, Regina pressed further.

 

"So this water restores what's lost?"

 

"That's the idea, yes." She said bluntly.

 

"So then it could return my leg to normal..."

 

Emma shook her head. "Nope. You're not going anywhere near it."

 

"...excuse me?" She sounded shocked by the insolence.

 

"Too risky. Only one of us should go. It's said that there's something guarding the lake, and if the lake exists, then I bet the monster does too. If the water's worth using, then they'll be something guarding it; it’s logical. I've got to face it without having to worry about you as well, it has to be outsmarted as opposed to outnumbered."

 

"There is no way you are just _wandering_ up to such a creature with no idea how to handle it without someone standing by to help--"

 

Emma had had enough. She stopped and turned to face her companion once more. The forest murmured quietly around them.

 

"Your stubbornness is going to get us into a _lot_ of trouble, princess. Trust me, I know. Just do as I say and this will be as painless as possible."

 

"I'm not being _stubborn_ , I'm using my common sense. You will die if you go alone."

 

Emma gritted her jaw and advanced on Regina. As she got slowly closer and closer, she was mildly disappointed to see that the brunette didn't cower even in the slightest, but rather glared evenly back, straightening her posture and crossing her arms in a way that was more aggressive than defensive.

 

"I'm going to say this...one more time..." Said Emma. She stood close, exuding icily calm threat. Regina continued to stare her down. "...I have the most experience out here. I live out here, I _survive_ out here on a day to day basis. This," she indicated to the bandage around her upper arm that Regina knew was covering a set of deep gashes from their wolf attack. "Is because of you. So far, _you're_ the one that has gotten us into trouble. So, from now on, I'm not taking any chances. I'm seeing us through this. I'm keeping you alive because I need you, and you'd better remember that next time you argue with me."

 

They stood inches apart, eyes still locked. Regina noticed that Emma was ever so slightly taller than her. She refused to budge.

 

"If you want to live, you're gonna have to listen to me." Emma's tone was low, calm, dangerous, quiet. "No one cares who you are and who you're married to and what you call yourself out here. It's anonymous and ruthless. Trust me, and we may stand a chance when we reach our destination, which I can assure you, _your majesty_ , will be ten times more difficult than the journey."

 

She allowed a moment of silence to let her words sink in. Regina's onyx eyes stared back unwaveringly, and her tongue darted out to wet lips she hadn't realised were dry. Emma's eyes flicked down to observe this.

 

"I'm going alone. You stay nearby so I can hear if anything goes wrong. If I get _truly_ desperate, then I'll shout for you. I doubt that'll happen though, if it is too much for me to handle, it will probably have killed me within seconds." She almost whispered, foreboding.

 

"Do you understand?" She hissed this so icily that Regina, though appearing wholly unruffled by the blonde's proximity and threats, knew there was no room for debate.

 

"If you insist." She said crisply, harshly, emotionlessly.

 

Emma allowed a small smirk of victory, waiting a moment before drawing away from the brunette.

 

"Good. Let's continue then. We should be almost at the lake."


	18. Chapter 18

"This is close enough." Emma halted in an area of coarse grass surrounded by drooping willow trees. The air tasted different, fresher, moister. They were certainly close enough.

 

Regina observed her rather picturesque surroundings; as uncomfortable as the practical experience may be, there were definitely visual positives to a life outdoors. She nodded silently, glancing up at the darkening sky.

 

"It shouldn't rain, but if it does, the trees should provide you with enough shelter so that you won't freeze to death. The lake is close, if my navigation is correct, which it almost always is." She slipped her bow and quiver off her shoulder and held it out to the Queen. "Do yourself a favour and try being a little quiet for once. This is the worst possible time to attract unwanted visitors."

 

Regina eyed the bow warily. "Won't you be needing that?"

 

Emma shook her head. "It's a battle of wits, rather than arms. A bow would put me at a disadvantage as I'd lose the element of surprise."

 

Regina cautiously took the bow from the blonde's outstretched grasp. It was heavier than she'd expected, and had become such a large part of the thief's appearance that it felt rather like a personal invasion.

 

"I can't use it."

 

Emma sighed and rolled her eyes in exasperation, dropping the quiver to the ground. "Well occupy yourself with practising while I'm gone. Might as well make yourself useful; an ability to use a weapon may come in handy one day." She chose to omit the fact that Regina's ability to inflict damage was the reason she was here.

 

Regina fitted the quiver on her shoulder. Emma shifted slightly in discomfort at having to hand over her prized weapon.

 

"I should be back before midnight. If I'm not, remain here until dawn, and then leave if I haven't returned. Try to find a town, or even better, Ruby, or if the worst comes to the worst, Hook. Find someone you know, basically. Everyone else should be considered a potential threat. Keep the bow with you at all times, light a fire, eat some supplies Hook gave us, get some rest, _be quiet_. I should be back fairly soon."

 

Emma bent down to check that her dagger was still firmly slotted into her boot and the flask at her hip. Regina tested the string of the bow.

 

The blonde straightened up and rolled her shoulders back.

 

"Right. Stay here. Stay safe." And with that, set off towards the edge of the clearing.

 

"Emma."

 

She turned to face Regina. The brunette did a good job of masking her growing trepidation.

 

"Try not to die."

 

Emma smirked, pleased by the lack of sympathy.

 

"I'll do my best, princess." She gave a small salute, and bounded off into the forest, armed with only a small knife and her wits, while Regina watched her until she disappeared, still clutching the bow as if it would protect her itself.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

It was late evening when Emma reached the lake, forcing herself not to shiver from the chill. The trees gave way to the body of water, smaller than Emma had expected it to be, and rather lovely-looking in the twilight. The surface was mirror-still, not a ripple or fin disturbed it. The plants at the water's edge were unusual, some she had never seen before, all eerily silver in the fading light and swaying calmly in the gentle breeze. Yes, it certainly looked like a place that held magic.

 

Hesitantly creeping out of the protective tree line, Emma felt her boots sink into soft damp ground, moistened by the water's tiny individual tides. She tensed completely, having established that the lake did indeed exist, and thus the monster was likely to as well.

 

She padded silently down to the waters edge, retracting the flask she had been carrying at her hip and prepared to lower it to the surface, when a flash of dark movement caught her eye.

 

The shadows by the water's edge pulsated with a figure sliding among them. Emma straightened her spine, ready to face the creature head on.

 

She resisted the urge to call out, and in the end she didn't need to, as the figure slinked slowly out into the remaining light.

 

As the creature revealed itself, her breath caught in her throat and her brow furrowed in confusion.

 

"Ruby?"

 

In front of her, wearing her signature red cape, sleek brown locks tumbling over narrow shoulder, was her young friend. She grinned at Emma, sharp white teeth glinting.

 

"Hello!"

 

Emma's eyes raked over the wolf-girl's delicate form. "You're the monster?!"

 

Ruby laughed, the rich sound had a strange echo to it in this environment.

 

"No! Of course not! Do I look like a monster?"

 

Emma slowly shook her head, suspicion clawing at her, unease weighing down her stomach.

 

"Then what are you doing here?"

 

Ruby laughed again and moved a few steps closer. She lacked her usual clumsiness, in fact, in the evening light she was almost elegant.

 

"It's such a beautiful evening and it's lovely here." She drifted towards the water's edge, dipping bare toes in it.

 

"It isn't cold at all." She waded in a short way and giggled in delight, then tossed a playful glance over her shoulder at Emma. "Come on in, the water's great."

 

"I'm fine thanks. I had better stay dry."

 

Ruby shrugged. "Suit yourself."

 

She waded further in, the material of her skirt floating on the surface around her, cloak slicing a scarlet slash against the darkening water.

 

"Ruby, there's supposed to be a beast in there." Interjected Emma, moving forward protectively.

 

Ruby laughed again. "Don't be ridiculous! I come here all the time."

 

Emma's stomach twisted. Against her better judgement, she moved into the shallow waters. The coolness of the water against the leather of her boots was strangely enticing.

 

"You always get an amazing view of the moon from here." The brunette pondered aloud, tilting her head back to observe the silver crescent that was gradually appearing in the sky.

 

Emma followed her gaze, completely forgetting her coldness. In fact, she was pretty content now, the serenity of the scenery lulling her slightly.

 

She didn't realised that she had moved any deeper until the water flowed over the top of her boots, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Dragging her eyes away from the bewitching sky, she levelled her gaze at Ruby, who had turned to face her. The forest was silent.

 

"Well you're in now..." Smiled Ruby. Something was slightly off. Emma, pulling herself back to the present, had an idea.

 

She winced noticeably and raised her hand to the bandage wrapped round her upper arm, still looking at Ruby.

 

Not a flicker of concern passed over familiar features. Ruby barely even noticed. When Emma exaggerated the gesture, feigning discomfort, Ruby tilted her head on one side and observed with curiosity rather than worry.

 

"Is something the matter?"

 

"Yes." Said Emma, straightening up once more. Ruby knew of her injury, Ruby was possibly the most compassionate person Emma knew, Ruby would never be so complacent. Ruby would be worried.

 

"What is it?" That grin was there again, but it was highly disconcerting this time.

 

"You're not Ruby."

 

Ruby looked affronted. "Of course I am. Who else would I be?"

 

Emma narrows her eyes suspiciously. "You tell me, _Ruby_ , because that's the worst impersonation I've ever seen."

 

The odd feeling she'd had since her arrival made sense now. She should trust her instincts in the future.

 

Ruby began to move towards her, slender hips swaying. "Clever little one, aren't you? Well, not really." Eyes that now appeared black glanced pointedly down at Emma's presence; up to her thighs in water.

 

"What are you?"

 

The Ruby impersonator giggled again, but it was more like a cackle, and it chilled Emma to the bone. However, she didn't budge.

 

"A story." She laughed lightly, then with no warning, turned to face the other way and plunged head first into the glassy water.

 

Emma started as water droplets rained on her. She assumed that the lake got very deep, very quickly, so was hesitant to move anywhere. She glanced through the dark depths, trying to catch sight of a flash of red, or a flash of _anything,_ but the darkness had swallowed the creature entirely.

 

She was once more startled by the splash behind her, and she spun on the spot, only to come face to face with black leather.

 

Her breath caught in her throat in shock.

 

A lopsided grin on a handsome, chiselled face met her. Glistening and gorgeous, Hook leaned closer.

 

"This any better?" He gestured to himself. "It's so very hard to tell with you, love. It seems you are slightly muddled...unable to make up your mind..." His voice, low and gravelly, sent shivers down her spine.

 

"If you were at all decent at this, you'd realise that this appearance does nothing for me."

 

"Oh, but I reckon it does something _to_ you." He moved closer still, so there was barely an inch between them, Emma was momentarily bemused by the inky depths of black eyes, so unlike the captain's at this distance.

 

"I gave you everything I could." He said, looking down at her. "I did everything in my power to keep you safe and healthy, to make you grow up into the tough young woman you are now. I _cared_ , and I rarely do that. Why are you so ungrateful?" He growled, a shallow breath slipped past her lips shakily.

 

"You only wanted me for my looks, you had my life and character planned out from the moment you first saw me. You're cruel, Killian, I've seen you do terrible things, and I won't judge you for them, but you can never play the saint in front of me. Of course I remember what you did for me, but I also remember what you've put me through."

 

The moonlight glinted off his hook, wet, tanned skin glittered, his already black appearance aspects appeared inexplicably blacker, as if he were a black hole, sucking in the light around him. He took her hand in his.

 

"I bared myself. That is not something I do. I was vulnerable and trusting and you turned your back. After _everything_." Eyes sparkled with dark intentions.

 

"You were a fool. You taught me never to do such a thing."

 

"I love you." He said intensely. "I always have and what's worse is that you _know_ I have. You are a cruel one. I misjudged you."

 

He stood practically pressed up against her. She could feel his breathing against her cheek. Her heart pounded in her ears.

 

"Show me that I'm wrong. That _you_ have been wrong..." His words slipped over her mind like silk. Then she realised it, once more pulling herself out of the daze-like trace.

 

"Nice try, but once more, not good enough." Her nose was practically brushing against his. She smirked as she hissed the words, pulling her hand out of his sharply.

 

"What isn't good enough?"

 

"You." She said harshly. "Killian would _never_ admit that to me. He's too smart, and too scared." She moved away a little, the mirage shattered.

 

"Temptation isn't always a reflection, it's often a revelation." Said Hook with a smirk, his previous vulnerability gone without a trace.

 

"Well, this isn't tempting me in the slightest." She said. Hook blocked her path back the way she came, so she turned away and waded towards the other side of the lake, eager for an escape, believing to have foiled the creature's plan.

 

"Are you certain about that?" Said a voice from behind her that made her halt in her tracks. The velvety, rich tones were nothing like the pirate captain's, but oh, she was familiar with this voice.

 

"You don't get it, do you?" Said Emma scathingly, without turning around. "It won't work. I'm not that vulnerable."

 

Barely a ripple was made, the silence enveloping, yet when the voice spoke again, it was much closer.

 

"I disagree."

 

Emma stifled a shiver, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, swallowing hard. She felt the warmth of a body close to her back. She couldn't find anything to say.

 

Emma could only hear her own breathing and the pounding of her heart echoing in the eerie silence. She trembled.

 

"Face me, if you're so strong." Came the harsh, ghostly demand, whispering through Emma's hair.

 

Emma steeled herself and slowly turned on the spot. The water lapped at her legs, sending shockwaves of cold relief through her blood. She faced her enemy, sharp-eyed and scratchproof.

 

She was greeted with what she had been expecting, and yet her eyes still widened and her throat still clenched. Weather-worn skin had become flawless and smooth, black leather had become dark bejewelled velvet, short cropped hair had become a waterfall of chocolate curls, the moonlight shone off high cheekbones and full lips, glittering in obsidian eyes and thick lashes.

 

"It's such a shame, isn't it?" Her voice was like a caress, Emma's lips parted minutely.

 

"What is?"

 

"This." She tilted her head on one side, silken hair spilling over her shoulders. Her gown was intricate, regal, unfamiliar; fit for a queen.

 

Emma's stomach twisted, the scent of her was foreign but completely intoxicating; sharp and fresh and _magic_. The curves of her figure and the angles of her face were highlighted, almost ethereal, but undeniably recognisable.

 

"Wrong again." Emma said, but she lacked conviction, voice wavering.

 

Regina tilted her head back on her neck, observing Emma through narrowed eyes. She was so beautiful that Emma had to swallow _hard_ to stop her eyes from watering at the mere sight.

 

"Oh no, _this_ is more like it." Said Regina, smirking. "I can see it now. How very _interesting_..."

 

"You have no idea about anything--"

 

"Oh, but I _do_. I'm inside your head..." She moved closer, her lips curved upwards slightly, impossibly dark eyes glittering with a mixture of suggestion and malice. "And so, apparently, is _she_..." There was a spiteful delight in her silky voice.

 

"Well, you've managed to take a form that will annoy me sufficiently to drive me to punch you in the face..." Said Emma, but her eyes were darting in slight panic, from dark, hypnotic eyes to tempting lips.

 

Regina laughed, not a giggle like Ruby, but a rich chuckle that sounded positively sinful. "My my, you're more confused than I thought. Of course, she irritates you, but wow, the things in your head..." She trailed off, observing Emma's increasingly dumbfounded face with ardent curiosity.

 

"She is _truly_ stunning." Said Regina's impersonator, glancing down at herself appreciatively, having evidently deemed it more effective to stop pretending to be the real Queen. "One of the most beautiful I’ve ever been. I understand your interest..."

 

"I have no interest whatsoever in the uptight little--"

 

"Just empty words, I'm afraid." She hissed. "I'm there. Inside. I can see. Your desires are a complicated muddle of screaming and you really are doing _so_ well in blocking them out, but you can't do so forever."

 

Not a soul or sound stirred around them, as if the lake was entirely enclosed in a glass bubble of sorcery and mystery. Emma's thoughts were deafening, shouting at her as she looked upon what obviously was not Regina, and yet _was_ her. The confusion caused her temples to throb and her head to swim. Regina moved even closer, barely an inch between them, and Emma's mouth went dry.

 

"Don't hate yourself for it. It's natural, I suppose. There's certainly a lot of animosity there, but I wonder how much of it is genuine." Said the creature, using Regina's lips and Regina's voice.

 

Emma could only shake her head feebly at this point.

 

"Poor girl, so young and lost, adamant you know what you're doing, but can't even control your own mind. Naïve too, it appears. You dislike her and all she stands for and yet, you can't help yourself, can you? A beautiful face and a fiery temper and an exciting new prospect and you're all over the place. Well, it'll come to nought, I'm afraid. Look at her." Her eyes flicked down to her own stolen body, virtually pressed against the blonde's. "She's your opposite, she's _royalty_ , she's important, so much so her husband's tearing the kingdom up just to get her back. What chance do you have?"

 

Emma swallowed hard. She wasn't sure if she was trembling with the cold or anger or something else entirely. Regina ran a delicate fingertip over the skin of Emma's forearm. The path she traced tingled and fizzed through Emma's bloodstream and she tensed inadvertently.

 

"Well...you have _this_ chance..."

 

Emma's brain felt sluggish and clogged, her heart thumping. She swallowed thickly, hypnotised by the beckoning darkness of the moment. Keep a clear head, Swan, keep a clear head...

 

She gasped audibly, her mind running away with her as Regina leant forward, cool breath ghosting over Emma's neck, stirring wisps of blonde hair. She could feel the presence of lips by the shell of her ear and screwed green eyes shut momentarily.

 

"We both know I'm not her. I shan't insult your intelligence. But I _look_ like her...and isn't that all that matters?" The undertones of the speech were heady in a voice that Emma knew well by now. She appeared to have lost the ability of speech entirely.

 

"This is her voice...her face...her body...for all intents and purposes, I _am_ her...and if you truly have no chance with the real thing, which you don't, then this is a unique opportunity. Seize it." She whispered. Emma was swamped by her moonlit scent.

 

She shook her head. "You're a poor copy." She said with as much venom as she could muster with the other breathing down her neck in such a delightful way.

 

Regina chuckled, Emma practically winced. She pulled back to look at her and Emma wished she hadn't. She was a _perfect_ copy, right down to the faint scar above her upper lip.

 

"I am meticulous. Down to the very last detail..." She trailed off, glancing down at her gown, moulded to her slender figure, hugging every curve like molten wax. "Not that you'd be able to tell...Aren't you curious?"

 

"Lust will drive you mad, dear, it'll be a distraction, a disadvantage. I've revealed it to you now, and so you won't be able to stop it. You will spend the rest of this journey indisputably aware of it, of _her_ , and it will be an inconvenience. It will push you to make a mistake, whatever form of mistake that may be."

 

Emma conceded this. She knew now, she _saw_ it. She had become conscious of the subconscious and it would get her killed. What serious harm could come of _this_...?

 

She drew herself into the present just as Regina moved so close that her lips hovered inches away from Emma's. "Take this chance. Seize this opportunity." Regina reached up to push Emma's hair away from her increasingly vacant face, hand resting against her cheek, tingling away against hot skin. Emma felt hypnotised, sucked into lightless eyes and flawless skin. She was almost certain there had been something she had needed to do...something important...

 

As the tangled mess of reality warped further, Emma closed her eyes, attempting to stop herself trembling. This wasn't real, of _course_ it wasn't, but that made it better. Desire marred judgement, and that would spell disaster for her. _One kiss_. _Just one_. Then she'd get whatever it was she'd come for and leave this poisonous vision behind her. She had to assuage this burning, and they were _her_ lips, it was _her_ body, so what did it matter what was inside? She was a victim of the age-old temptation of beauty that you cannot ignore, something so common and easily satisfied. It had nothing to do with the _person_ whom the creature was imitating.

 

She hadn't realised that she had drifted gratifyingly closer until the other woman's nose brushed hers in a gesture so horribly lustful that she inhaled shakily. Lips hovered a hairsbreadth away, welcoming, tempting. What chance did she have? What chance had she _ever_ had?

 

"Emma..." The sound of that voice caressing her name in the beautiful moonlit moment was too much. She teetered on the edge of two courses of action. She reached forward to run her fingers through perfect dark locks, feeling the silken texture slipping easily over her skin and hating, _hating_ , the decision she'd come to.

 

The imposter gasped in a tiny breath that caught in her throat. Large, enigmatic eyes locked onto Emma's, wide and scared and confused. Emma's face remained neutral, as the brunette choked slightly and glanced downwards to where the hilt of a dagger was visible where Emma had buried the rest of it in the creature’s stomach.

 

"You're not worth my weakness." Spat Emma, venom racing through tortured veins. She pulled out her dagger, dripping with shimmering black blood.

 

Regina's impersonator's breaths came out in rapid gasps as her punctured organs malfunctioned. She raised a delicate hand to the wound, watching with horror at the rate of blood pouring out, staining the fine material of her dress and seeping through fingers. She looked back up at Emma, tears spilling down pristine cheeks, anger burning in the impossible eyes, and Emma's throat closed up at the sight, her own eyes blurring slightly with tears.

 

_It's not her. It's not her._

 

The creature fell backwards, creating a disturbing splash in the calmness. Under the surface, Emma watched as features morphed into those unrecognisable: a woman; thin and elegant, with auburn hair and straight nose; beautiful, and _not_ Regina. Blood continued to leak from her wound, mingling with darkened waters. Emma quickly reached down and scooped up a flask full before it was entirely contaminated.

 

She waded out of the lake; thoroughly shaken, slightly melancholy. She glanced back at the water, but the body had inexplicably vanished, dragged to the hidden depths she supposed. She sighed deeply and pulled herself together, before heading back into the forest towards the _real_ Regina.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

"You're alive!" Regina gasped and surged up from her seat on the floor, fire flickering away before her.

 

Emma entered the clearing without looking directly at the brunette.

 

"Yes I'm alive, princess. Have a little faith." She said without mirth. Regina frowned.

 

Emma headed straight for her satchel and pulled the remains of the map out, spreading it on the leaf-covered floor.

 

"Did you get it?!" Inquired the Queen, leaning over Emma's shoulder to get a better look.

 

"Yes I did." Answered Emma curtly, acutely aware of Regina's proximity.

 

Regina was slightly confused at this apparent and abrupt change in attitude, but had little time to contemplate it as Emma poured the contents of the flask over the charred parchment.

 

Both women held their breath and waited. Within moments, water had shimmered an ethereal blue colour, and they watched in awe as the parchment returned to its earlier colour, blackness disappearing and markings and lines reappearing.

 

"It worked!" Said Regina, clearly surprised.

 

"Yes it did." Smirked Emma triumphantly. Maybe the experience had been worth it after all...

 

She carried the map nearer the fire to better inspect it. Regina sat beside her, sensing that something was off-beat.

 

"What happened there?" She asked quietly.

 

Emma swallowed hard and remained staring straight at the map. "There was a lake. There was water. I got the water."

 

"Was there a monster?"

 

Emma could lie, but the story would highly unfeasible.

 

"Yes there was."

 

Regina waited in anticipation for an elaboration that never came.

 

"Well? What happened?"

 

Emma shrugged nonchalantly. "I killed it. It wasn't that ferocious. I'm sorry I was gone so long...I lost my way."

 

Regina frowned. _Emma losing her way in the woods?_

 

"What was the creature?" She asked.

 

Emma sighed quietly and slowly raised her eyes to Regina. A weight settled at the bottom of her stomach at the sight of distinctive, striking features, now warped with concern. She hoped this would not be as bad and inconvenient as she predicted it would be.

 

"A siren."

 


	19. Chapter 19

In a forgotten and insignificant wing of a grand and dilapidated castle, the watery sunlight streamed into a small room. The dust dancing in and out of the beam swirled around a small wooden table with a hard bench pulled up to it. A small boy sat at the table, hunched over a bowl of thin soup, bony hands tipping the bowl to allow the lukewarm liquid to pour down his ravenous throat. He trembled slightly; the room was drafty, although he was used to the bite of the stale air.

 

As the door to the room creaked open, the boy jumped slightly and spun around to face the person entering. He trembled for an entirely different reason. He was not a sickly child, he was in adequate health, and his fair emaciation was only due to limited food. He was also not a cowardly child, so used to regular threats was he that he faced them with a tangible determination, but also a self-preserving sense of submission.

 

"I have a bone to pick with you." Said the intruder; small and wiry, scaled skin, a bone-chilling grin and wide, reptilian eyes.

 

The boy said nothing, merely looked on with complacency.

 

"You've been snooping around again." Accused the man, voice slimy and accusatory. "I told you, if you don't stay within your confinements, I'll keep you locked in this one room."

 

The boy stared back, swallowing hard.

 

"I was just..." His little voice trailed off.

 

"Just what?" Said the man, the tone of his voice was constantly teasing.

 

The boy mumbled to himself, looking down at skinny legs that dangled off the wooden bench. "Just wanted to..."

 

"Oh, I know exactly what you were looking for!" Exclaimed the man suddenly with an accompanying hand flourish. His fingers were thin and claw-like, and ended in long unkempt nails.

 

The boy averted wide, fearful eyes as the small man swaggered further into the room.

 

"Books!" He exclaimed in a voice so excitedly animated, it startled the boy. "On and on, books books books! You can't even read!"

 

A blush of fury swept across the boy's cheeks as he stared pointedly downwards, avoiding eye contact. The small man cackled piercingly.

 

"Oh, but you are _bored_! You think that you'd be able to teach yourself to read and you'll find some kind of happy ending therein. You think knowledge is power, you naïve little thing! Well, why would I want your grubby little hands on _any_ of my books, hmm?" He tormented.

 

The boy bit his tongue, balling tiny hands into fists. He blinked back tears with strict determination.

 

"Well, I have some news for you, dearie! You're never getting out of here! So what's the point in searching books for a way out when it would be futile?" He let out a sadistic giggle.

 

The boy raised his head for a fraction of a second and murmured something. The little man leapt forward, bending down to his level and feigning deafness, cupping a scaled hand to his ear.

 

"What was that, dearie?" His shrill, high-pitched voice echoed harshly off bare brick.

 

The boy raised his voice slightly. "I just wanted to see..."

 

The little man cackled again. "Well, in afraid that isn't going to happen! Never! This isn't a holiday, dearie. You aren't here to be schooled or pampered. You are here as a compromise, as a prisoner. You are here for the punishment of your wicked and deceitful mother, my dear. On _my_ terms under _my_ roof. You understand?" He half-hissed, half-laughed.

 

The boy nodded mutely, accepting defeat this time.

 

"Good!" He shouted, scampering back to the door and turning to gesture elaborately to the child. "If you do anything like that again, if I catch you _anywhere near_ my library again, then I'm afraid I'm going to have to remove the privilege of sunlight." He said, waving his hand at the small widow.

 

"You don't want to go there again, do you?" He asked. The boy shook his head, tears rolling silently down soft, young cheeks.

 

"Well, an adventurous nature may actually have its advantages." He said happily, prancing forward again. The boy tensed immediately when the man got near.

 

Without any prior warning, a scaly hand plunged its way into the child's chest and tore out the still beating, gold-glowing heart, tiny and undeveloped. The look on the boy's face was a sad, scared look of one used to such an occurrence.

 

The man inspected the heart, huge eyes scrutinising its pure pink depths. "Yes, it glows more by the day. Perhaps a slightly defiant spirit is exactly what it will take. Still, far from ready." He said and casually thrust the organ back into the rapidly heaving chest. The boy clutched at his rib cage, readjusting to the returned warmth.

 

The man didn't give the boy a second glance before sauntering out of the door, slamming it shut with a final shout of "You'd better stay in there, dearie! Unless you want it out of your body permanently!"

 

As his footsteps echoed down the corridor outside, the boy pulled skinny legs up onto the bench, tight against his chest, and sobbed into his knees, rocking back and forth as if an invisible maternal force was doing it for him.

 


	20. Chapter 20

"Will you _stop_ doing that?!" Regina hissed as Emma leaned forward once more to nudge the bow from behind.

 

Emma sighed. "If I didn't, you'd have shot about two feet to the side of the tree."

 

Regina lowered the weapon slightly and cast a haughty glance over her shoulder. "I wasn't ready. I was making further adjustments."

 

"Yeah, sure." Laughed the blonde. She sauntered forwards and moved Regina's arm that was holding the bow so it was pointed at the tree ahead of them again, a hasty target scratched in the bark about half way up

 

Regina rolled her shoulders back, all this physical activity was rendering her permanently stiff. She gripped the bow tightly once more and pulled back the drawstring. She felt hands on her shoulders and stiffened further.

 

"You're not thinking." Said Emma, exasperated.

 

Regina glared at the target on the tree. _Of course she was thinking!_ It would be easier if that one lock of hair wasn't ticking her neck though...

 

 

The wind.

 

She moved the bow slightly to the left, into the breeze, and felt Emma's hands slip from her shoulders. Proud and determined, she let the arrow loose.

 

It imbedded itself in the outer ring of the target, but at least this one had landed in the tree.

 

She sighed, and lowered the weapon. Emma crossed her arms and observed curiously.

 

"You're improving, princess. It isn't easy. I've had a lifetime of necessary practice."

 

Regina sighed and dropped the bow. Emma winced as her beloved weapon hit the ground with a thud and twitched to pick it up.

 

"Something that I'm _actually_ getting the hang of, however..." Said Regina. She faced the tree once more and with a twisting gesture of her hands, the low-hanging branches sprung into action, twining and wrapping round the trunk of the tree, tighter, tighter, until the wood creaked in complaint at the pressure and the arrow imbedded in the bark snapped into splinters.

 

Emma hastily closed her mouth and blinked away the evident shock in wide green eyes. Regina turned to smirk at her, impressed with herself.

 

"Not bad..." Emma muttered. "I doubt you'll be able to squeeze the life out of him though."

 

Regina rolled her eyes. That was the last time she tried to impress someone as uncivilised and uncaring as Emma Swan. She flicked her fingers irritably, and both women were startled as the branches tightened even further and the trunk of the tree cracked and split along several jagged lines running through the wood. With another hasty gesture, the branches fell limply into their original position and stilled.

 

Emma's brow creased, then she glanced away from the Queen and up at the sky.

 

"We should get going. Staying here for too long will attract attention."

 

Regina clenched her jaw and nodded. "Where does the map lead us next?"

 

Emma recalled. "We leave the forest. There's a river nearby, we follow that down to the marshland. There is a town nearby. We should probably get some more food."

 

Regina sighed and shrugged. She was tiring of all this moving, yet secretly feared what would happen if she stopped.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

Days passed, mostly uneventful; a godsend. They found the river, wide and rushing, they followed it, they lived off what they could, they hid when others passed and they bickered and disagreed as usual. Cold weather got warmer, nights shorter, the King's search parties got more and more frequent and hence Emma got more and more anxious.

 

Regina occupied herself with magic, controlling and developing her skills. The open land became a place she passed through rather than a constant threat, she ended up ripping the bottom few inches of her skirt off for practicality, her royal appearance present now only in her demeanour and language.

 

Emma observed these changes. Regina was starting to stick up for herself even more. She had never been one to back down in arguments before of course, but her fierce will to adapt and take care of herself was evident every now and then, in the way she trekked with her head held high and shoulders relaxed, and the way she increasingly frequently offered to hunt for their meals. Emma was wary. What if the Queen decided she could take care of herself and abandoned this quest? Emma hated the fact that she was now probably more dependent on Regina than the other way around.

 

She was not immune, however. She may have come to terms with her encounter with the siren, but that didn't stop her flinching when she saw Regina in the cloaking darkness of night, shadowed and momentarily menacing. When she practiced her magic, her eyes would darken as the power flowed through her, and Emma would be transported back to the lake and the fear and the danger and the _temptation_ and it sometimes took her minutes to drag herself from her alarmed reverie. Regina had noticed; stupid was one thing she had prided herself in never being, but when Emma's eyes filled with panic momentarily in the most seemingly random of occasions, she simply assumed she was thinking of her son, and was merely resenting the fact that it was taking so long.

 

As days passed, Regina started to worry. More and more frequently Emma dragged her into the undergrowth to hide from a passing troop of King's guards. Her husband was evidently not letting up. She was worried that she would never be able to live a normal life. Wherever she went, every face she saw would be one she'd have to treat with suspicion, the slightest word could have her betrayed and dragged back to that beautiful hell. She had never been a particularly social person, yet the idea of living in isolation because she simply couldn't trust anybody was unappealing. She had grown so used to the often irritating but ultimately agreeable company of the thief. There was something so refreshing in the way Emma looked at her. She didn't _stare_ , she looked. She had been treated like a waste of space for all of her childhood years and then as a pristine and precious ornament during the years after her marriage. She was completely inexperienced at being treated like a regular person. Emma judged her on her character, her ability, her attitude and her knowledge as opposed to what she failed to achieve and how she looked. It was foreign, yet forgiving, and although she would perhaps rather be in the company of someone a little less blunt and crass, there was a charm in the lack of sugar coating in the blonde's attitude, and her sarcasm and wit at least made for interesting conversation.

 

It was almost a week before they encountered their next problem.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Regina could feel the thorns of the bush they were hiding in pushing determinedly through the material of her dress, now having seen better days. She could feel the heat from Emma's body, crushed against her own and making the position ever the more uncomfortable. Their erratic breathing sounded like thunder in the tense silence. Emma's grip on Regina's forearm was bruising. The day was warm, and she could feel herself overheating, panic setting in, and yet she remained as silent as possible as the footsteps got closer.

 

There were a lot of them by the sounds of it, and Regina's stomach churned at the memory of the wolf attack. She didn't know if it made her feel better or worse that these were undoubtedly _human_ footsteps. They'd had to do this before; hide when they crossed paths with someone else. Emma had said that they were close to the town that acted as their next pit stop. Regina was tired of eating rabbit.

 

As the group emerged, Emma hissed at her to not make a sound. The thief scanned the faces of the group from whom they were hiding. They were not guards, unless the King had gotten desperate enough to start hiring spies. They were all male, eight of them, all dressed in practical, grubby clothes the colour of the forest. One at the back was massive, with a thick beard and head of dark hair. There was a smaller, mousy one in the middle, a strong-built brunette with stubble peppering a square jawline, and a lanky, boyish blonde at the front, who was grinning. They all carried equipment and bags, several had weapons, many seemed in mid-conversation. Emma sighed silently; outlaws, some of her own, not a threat. They'd probably just keep to themselves and move on.

 

As they continued passed the bush the Queen and the thief hid in, Emma's grip on Regina's arm loosed marginally, breathing still heavy, palpable in the silecnce. As the band of thieves passed back into the trees of the forest, the stubbled brunette paused for a minute, hesitating at the back of the group, appearing to be thinking...or listening...

 

The blonde boy noticed and stopped as well, questioning. "Everything alright?"

 

The brunette appeared not to hear him, but continued concentrating, turning his head fractionally towards their hiding place. Emma's hand inches towards Regina again.

 

"What is it?" Asked the boy, probably no more than twenty.

 

The other man sprung into action so quickly that Emma thought perhaps she'd imagined it. He pulled his bow off his shoulder, loaded it, and had spun to face them, weapon taught and ready, all within seconds. Had Emma not been frozen with panic, she may have admired it.

 

"Show yourself!" He demanded, voice rough and earthy.

 

Emma glanced at Regina, who looked more angry than fearful. She took her hand, just for a moment, for reassurance. Regina swallowed and nodded.

 

As they both sprung from the bush, Emma loaded her own bow, pointing it straight at the man's heart. There was shock evident in hazel eyes; he seemed to be fighting back a smirk of appraisal. Emma was surprised she was still alive, had someone pulled a weapon out on her from nowhere, she wouldn't have hesitated in shooting them through the temple.

 

"Who are you?" He asked, unflinchingly. The rest of his group had gathered, some twitching to reach for their weapons, but were unsure whether to risk it or not. The big guy had his hands raised in surrender. Emma could almost _feel_ the magic crackling off Regina, but she knew, well she _hoped_ , the Queen wouldn't be stupid enough to show her ability just yet.

 

"Passers by." Replied Emma after some consideration.

 

"Good." He said. "So are we. Just passing through, we don't mean you any harm."

 

"I've learnt not to just go on the word of outlaws." Said Emma icily.

 

He looked sincere, but didn't lower his bow. A man behind him unsheathed a knife.

 

"It looks to me like you are one." He said.  

 

"Exactly. I know how they think."

 

The man raised an eyebrow, then apparently noticed the other woman for the first time. Regina tensed as the attention of the group shifted onto her, begging that none of them would recognise her.

 

Emma was fully prepared to let loose her arrow if they showed any unsavoury attention towards her companion, but surprisingly, the look on the brunette's face as he observed Regina was not hungry, but rather politely appraising. He slowly lowered his weapon.

 

"Where are you heading?" He asked.

 

Emma frowned. "Why would I tell you that?"

 

He shrugged. "You have nothing to fear here, you clearly have nothing worth taking, and as I said, were merely...passing through..."

 

"We're going to the town. It's not far from here."

 

He shook his head. "I'd advise against it. We only just made it out. The place is crawling with Royal Guard, searching for the lost Queen. It's a rat trap for people like us."

 

She fought the immediate desire to glance towards Regina. The last thing they needed was these thieves to know about the very real, very royal presence in the group. She would have doubted the honesty of the thief, had his claim not been so feasible. Of course the Guard had been stationed in all towns, it would be the first place the King looked.

 

Emma didn't move, processing this information, unsure of her next move. She caught Regina unclench her hand.

 

"You're not from this part of the forest." She stated.

 

The man chuckled. "No. We're not. Is it that obvious?"

 

Emma shook her head minutely. "I know these woods like the back of my hand. I know most of the outlaws in it, and yet I don't recognise a single one of you."

 

The man nodded. "Aye, you've got us. We're not even from this kingdom, driven out of our own by the ogre wars. We're from Sherwood."

 

Sherwood. That sounded familiar.

 

"Why are you telling me this?"

 

He shrugged. "How could it hurt me?"

 

She loosened her grip on the bow slightly.

 

"We still haven't been properly introduced." He announced. "I am Robin of Locksley. And these are my Merry Men."

 

Regina frowned. Emma's eyes widened in recognition.

 

"Robin Hood?"

 

He smiled and bowed his head. "Aye. At your service."

 

Going on his reputation, she relaxed slightly. The thief of the rich and benefactor of the poor, kind and good-natured, but tough and indisputably an outlaw.

 

There was a moment of contemplation between the two parties. Hood looked from Emma to Regina to the bow to Regina again. The women simply donned a mutual mask of indifference as they rapidly thought through what to do individually.

 

"Look, it's getting late, and like I said, the town's not safe. We have plenty of food. Camp with us for the night, we'll part ways in the morning. It's been a while since we've had an outsider to talk to."

 

Emma tensed once more. "I think we should just be on our way..."

 

"I insist. We've held you up here. These woods can be dangerous and there's safety in numbers."

 

"No. I don't trust you." She said bluntly. "And we've been managing fine on our own in these woods for the past few weeks. Our gender doesn't make us incapable."

 

Hood raised his hands in a display of surrender. "I never suggested anything of the sort. But we do have food, and supplies, something you _appear_ to be lacking, and it would certainly make your night more comfortable. I have no doubt you two could do some serious damage to my men, and I won't force you into a position that makes you vulnerable."

 

Emma narrowed her eyes, her super power coming into play. Hood didn't appear to be lying. Then again, her sense had been fooled a few times before...

 

"Please. Let me do this for the two of you." He implored.

 

Emma glanced over at Regina. It had been a while since their last proper meal and it was starting to weigh on them both. What harm could humouring a notoriously good and apparently truthful fellow outlaw do, especially for only a night? He might have some valuable information to divulge, that's where an outside perspective always came in handy when it came to keeping up to date with the way of the woods.

 

"Fine." Said Emma. Regina glanced at her, but her expression gave away nothing. "We'll spend the night with you. But just the night, and then we'll part ways."

 

Hood beamed, he was the very embodiment of what Emma had always expected him to be; kind, concerned, strong-sensed and handsome. She felt like she should trust him, but a niggling doubt in the back of her mind made itself known. She'd have to remain on her guard constantly, without exception. She'd sleep for only a few hours, if that, beside Regina and as far away as possible from the outlaws without seeming suspicious and while still feeling the group security. She'd not let her bow out of her grasp, and keep her knife hidden as a surprise last resort.

 

"I'm delighted to have you in our company, miss...?"

 

"Swan. Emma Swan." No harm could come of them knowing her real name.

 

"Ah, _the_ Emma Swan?"

 

She shrugged. "Yes, unless there are two of us."

 

Hood smiled. "Got a bit of a ferocious reputation yourself there, Miss Swan."

 

She raised her eyebrow and smirked. Hood glanced over to Regina.

 

"And you?"

 

Emma tensed with panic, yet Regina's expression was calm stoicism.

 

"Helena. Helena Daniels." She said confidently.

 

Hood smiled again and approached to shake her hand, apparently deciding that she was the more amiable out of the two. "A pleasure, my lady."

 

"We don't do informality. I refuse to be patronised. You will address us by our first names." Said Emma, leaving no room for manoeuvre.

 

"Fine by me, Emma." He said, preceding to introduce his "Merry Men", as they were hilariously monikered. Few names stuck with Emma; the younger blondish one was Much, and giant-like man was ironically dubbed Little John.

 

"We shall camp just over there." Announced Hood, indicating to the riverbank beyond the trees. "The stream is a good source of fresh water, and it's easy to protect."

 

Emma shrugged as if to say 'lead the way', and he did. She fell into step alongside Regina, slightly separate from the group.  

 

"A free meal's too good an opportunity to pass up, if what they say about the town is true. They're outlaws like me, so I suppose I should trust the sense of comradeship, but I don't. We leave early tomorrow morning. We sleep a distance from them, we stay alert and on our guard at all times and if anything happens, let me deal with it."

 

"You and your bow against a group of strong men?"

 

She glanced over irritably, not liking her chances questioned in such a way, yet conceding.

 

"If I give you a signal, use your magic. Don't hesitate. Take them out like you did the band of thieves you ran into before we met."

 

She paled slightly at the memory, but Emma thought she had perhaps imagined it. The Queen nodded, understanding.

 

They followed the Merry Men to the tree line, water bubbling peacefully along in the stream, and stood by, apprehensively and wary, as the camp was constructed.

 


	22. Chapter 22

Emma felt uneasy.

 

Not the usual, on-her-guard kind of uneasy, an entrenched, dragging wariness and almost fear in the bottom of her stomach. She was unsure as to what aspect of the situation made her feel this way; it was still a slightly suspicious circumstance, but everything seemed genuine, the atmosphere was anything but tense. Yet she couldn't shake this anxiety. She kept her bow close, and more than one reached down to subtly pat the shape of the dagger under the leather of her boot when no one was paying attention.

 

Regina seemed slightly less on edge, accepting the food offered and being as polite as Emma had ever experienced her being. Ale was passed round, then whiskey, and Emma suspected most of the men to be more than slightly tipsy. She refused alcohol for once, she couldn't afford to get careless, not again.

 

She sat in the lopsided circle around the campfire, next to the Queen, slanted slightly away from her in a position not even she had realised was protective. As indulged in her habit and sharpened a stick into a point, she subtly listened in to the conversations around her.

 

Hood was recounting some tale of bravery and deceit that he may or may not have actually experienced, but it was clearly amusing his audience as he reached the comic climax of the story. Little John howled with laughter, tears rolling down round red cheeks and into his thick beard. The mousy man punched Hood playfully on the arm in amusement, and Emma watched as Much rolled his eyes but chuckled none the less. She watched as Hood smiled at the jovial mood of his group, then glanced over at Regina so quickly Emma almost didn't see it. The brunette was looking pensive, distant from the hilarity. She was looking up at the rapidly appearing stars, and something about this lack of attention clearly struck something in Hood. Emma was tempted to call it worry.

 

As his men began to talk amongst themselves, he moved over to where Regina sat.

 

"Are you alright?"

 

Regina was pulled out of whatever far off place she'd been immersed in and shot a glance at him, then went back to staring at the fire.

 

"Yes, thank you. I'm quite alright.

 

"You have impeccable manners, milady. You aren't bred of the forest, I can tell."

 

"No, I'm not." She said with a semi-sarcastic smirk. Emma tilted her head back on her neck, her muscles tense and stiff.

 

"Then where are you from, if I may ask?"

 

Regina hesitated. Truth be told, she'd never had someone actually show an interest in her life, not without ulterior motives anyway, and for that reason she was wary.

 

"A little town. In this kingdom. An inconsequential place, I wouldn't be surprised if you've never come across it."

 

Emma, listening in still, was worried that she wouldn't be able to lie as effortlessly as would appear natural and blow their cover.

 

"So how did you come to be out here, in the company of Miss Swan?"

 

"Well...we have a shared goal. We both want a fresh start and we're helping each other get it."

 

Hood frowned, the firelight throwing shadows across his blandly handsome face. "What goal could you two possibly share? I've never met companions so starkly different."

 

Regina had evidently begun to open up slightly, lulled by the ease of conversation and the reassuring good nature of their host. "We aren't so different, I think sometimes. Emma knows the weight of disappointment about as well as I do, I reckon. We've both experienced heartache that no child should be put through." She let out a bitter laugh. "It really messes you up when you aren't good enough for the people who have no choice but to love you."

 

Emma, fairly certain that Regina had no idea that she was listening in, continued to do so in the hope of catching something about the Queen's elusive past. There was a tiny nagging tug in her stomach reminding her that she'd opened up to Robin Hood in a matter of minutes more than she had to Emma in a couple of weeks.

 

Hood processed this quietly. "Forgive me for seeming intrusive, I am merely curious. You are fascinating...both of you."

 

Emma bristled at this slightly.

 

"We're just trying to find some peace." Regina said simply, distantly.

 

Hood smiled, lopsided and perhaps a bit too affectionate. "Aren't we all?"

 

She glanced at him and gave an ironic smile. "You've come rather a long way. What is it you're really looking for?"

 

Hood frowned, eyes not leaving Regina as she watched the fire crackle. "What makes you think I'm looking for anything? We've come here out of necessity, after our forest became a battlefield."

 

"So thieving here as you were back in Sherwood?" She asked. Emma fought back a grin she couldn't quite understand.

 

Hood looked slightly affronted. "Well, in a manner of speaking..."

 

"It is a difficult period for many people in this kingdom..."

 

"We help people." He declared quickly. "We steal from the rich and give to the poor, just as we are rumoured to."

 

"I have heard no such rumours." Said Regina. "And I'm sure it all seems very _noble_ from where you're standing." She idly toyed with the diamond bracelet that had not left her wrist since the moment Emma had returned it to her, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

 

"It is with only the best intentions! The rich have more than enough and the poor have nothing!"

 

Regina gave a short chuckle. "And what about the 'rich' from whom you steal priceless heirlooms? The only remnant of their lost loved ones? Their last chance at keeping the house they've lived in their entire lives? The money they earned through strenuous and difficult work that they intend to put into raising a child or paying for medical treatment of a dying family member? I wouldn't be so quick to label things as black and white, Mr Hood. Assuming all rich are villains and all poor are innocent is foolish, and judgement should not be passed before you can see the whole picture." She finished by tossing a twig into the fire and watching the flames jump up around it.

 

Hood raised an eyebrow and looked almost impressed. "You certainly are fascinating."

 

She laughed. "Wow, a woman with a valid opinion, probably is noteworthy in your eyes."

 

"Of course. All opinions are noteworthy. Your gender doesn't factor in at all. I am not about to judge you on that matter, I never have."

 

"Your group is entirely male..."

 

"By coincidence, completely unintentional. I try not to judge people on gender, rather on ability."

 

Regina seemed pacified, and smirked slightly to herself. "Do you spend all your time with men?"

 

"Alas, I do. I had a woman whom I would have given all this up for, without her even having to ask, but I lost her. I hope to find her again some day. However, I am not going to keep chasing a dream when reality needs attention."

 

"What happened to her?"

 

"Forced into a bond she did not want to forge. A man of power demanded her hand in marriage on the ground that should she refuse, her village would be cleared and her family banished or executed. It was a noble sacrifice to make, and one I am not bitter about. I just hope that someday I will be able to save her from that hell and return her to my side, where she belongs."

 

If Regina was deeply affected by the tale, she hid it well. Hood seemed so absorbed by his immediate audience that he didn't seem to realise that it spanned beyond the brunette.

 

"Well I wish you luck, no one should be forced to be with someone they don't want to."

 

The words hit Emma heavily, and for a moment, she thought that it was because she got the impression that Regina was truly unhappy on this quest with only Emma for company, before realising that it was much more likely that she simply sympathised with a woman who had been forced into an arranged marriage.

 

"You speak with the tragic tone of one who speaks from experience." Said Hood, voice soft and pitying. It made Emma shift uncomfortably.

 

"My past is nothing compared to others', but it has certainly left a bitter taste in my mouth, yes." Emma had no idea why she was telling this "prince of thieves" all this anyway, honestly, neither did Regina.

 

"I am a considerate pair of ears if you wish to express anything." He suggested.

 

Emma flushed with something akin to fury. They'd known this guy for a single evening and he'd already got further with Regina with regards to her past without being hissed at than Emma had the entire time she'd known Regina. The man likely had wrong intentions; he probably saw her as an opportunity for theft, or a lead to the upper classes, or worse simply a new voice and a beautiful face to amuse himself with. Emma didn't want to know if Regina elaborated on her elusion, or how much detail she went into with regards to what would have to be a carefully planned out lie. She didn't want to know how much Regina trusted this man, didn't want to hear her spill her sentiments to a stranger. She didn't want him to receive what he hadn't realised she had been seeking for a while now.

 

So she got up from her spot and slunk over to join the other men, swigging ale and laughing at Much flicking stones at a squirrel, leaving Regina and her new friend to gossip and bond as much as they wanted. She glanced their way once after she made this move. She caught Regina's eye, and held it for a moment. The brunette tried to convey reassurance without words.

 

_Don't worry, I won't let anything dangerous slip._

 

Emma gave a resigned and minuscule nod, before turning her back.

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I don't say much, but in case you weren't aware, this story is finished (repost from ff.net), and so it won't stop half way through. I try to post a chapter a day, but sometimes I forget. 
> 
> Thank you for reading it, by the way!

The night wore on. As the moon appeared in the sky behind a peppering of clouds, the thieves passed round the rum a second time. Emma swigged from the bottle readily now, anything to take her mind off the conversation occurring in a more sheltered corner of the clearing.

 

The blonde sat among the Merry Men, and they weren't half amusing, surprisingly. She had been exchanging stories and legends for jokes and alcohol, and she decided that company was certainly alright after so long in isolation. The lovely atmosphere was not enough, however, to distract her from the pair in the corner.

 

Regina and Hood seemed to be getting along like a house on fire. The Queen, who had been initially reluctant, now sat angled slightly towards the outlaw. Indifference had become interest, her tone elevated, her eyes glittering, her smile growing. Regina didn't do rum, something Emma knew, but whatever alcohol Hood had in that hip flask of his was something undoubtedly better, and indeed stronger, as there was a blush in Regina's cheeks and her voice echoed slightly louder and Emma realised a bit too late that perhaps losing sight of sobriety was a bad idea when in unfamiliar company, but with the pace the men were drinking at, Emma doubted they were much of a threat. She watched as the redhead, Colin his name was, laughed so loudly, he hiccoughed and spilt a large proportion of his own bottle down the front of his tunic, to general hilarity.

 

Emma threw herself into the antics with gusto, desperate to drag her attention elsewhere, but she kept stealing glances back at the pair. They were talking closely, thighs touching as they perched on the tree stump. Their expressions went from amused and carefree to heartfelt in the blink of an eye, and Emma thought perhaps they just had a particularly strong and immediate connection that caused such free and easy interaction. When Regina spoke, hands gesturing, teeth flashing in her grin, Emma stopped looking at her for a moment to look at Hood looking at her. This refined and elegant woman, whom Emma had rarely seen vulnerable or honest, had allowed herself a night of expression and enjoyment, putting fears and reserves behind her and just _letting go_ of who she was before she'd set foot in the Enchanted Forest. She was fluid and liberated, and somehow, the flow of her made her more beautiful than before, something Hood had evidently noticed, and something Emma found herself greatly resenting.

 

Soon the camp settled down and the men pulled out blankets and pillows and stared up at the stars. Emma had volunteered to check the surrounding area first, for which Hood had thanked her, before going back to his apparently enthralling conversation with Regina, who was smiling happily to herself even now. Emma cast a suspicious glance and then strutted off to scope out their surroundings.

 

Having declared the area clear, the blonde returned to the campsite to find most men drifting off or quietly talking under their breath. A lull of calmness swept the clearing, but Emma still had alcohol in her blood and something else as well that was making it boil. Regina and Hood appeared to be finally calling it a night, Hood graciously offering her his blanket to add to the spare one she had been issued if it got too cold. The glances passed between the two of them as they went about preparing for bed were tangible; Hood's admiring and enchanted, Regina's appreciative and almost _warm_ , a realisation that made Emma's hands clench.

 

Before the pair could say their goodnights, Emma pulled Regina by her sleeve and dragged her to one side.

 

"A word please, princess." She growled.

 

Regina looked as icily calm as always, but there was puzzlement in the crease of her eyebrows. She allowed Emma to drag her out of the clearing and out of earshot of the gang of outlaws.

 

Once a safe distance away from the camp, Emma stopped and rounded on Regina, eyes flashing.

 

"I don't know what you're up to, but I can see it getting us into a whole lot of trouble and I am _not_ getting this far just to have you screw it up now." She hissed.

 

Regina looked taken aback and completely oblivious, but that fiery temper reared up fairly quickly.

 

"What on _earth_ are you screaming about?!"

 

"You! You, who thinks it's perfectly ok to go around guarding everything so closely that it took me _ages_ to trust you, in fact I'm pretty sure I still _don’t_ trust you, and then you spill all secrets at the glint of an eye!"

 

Regina still looked bemused, but the furrow of her eyebrows was angered as well as confused.

 

"Please, continue to rip me to shreds before you've actually told me what's got you so angry." She shot back. Emma was pacing furiously, Regina stood a good distance away, hands on hips.

 

"I'm talking about you telling _him_ every detailed of your _tragic_ little royal life!"

 

Regina looked appalled at the flagrant nature of the accusation, mouth open in shock.

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" She growled.

 

"Oh please, don't give me that, a charming heroic outlaw sidles in and all of a sudden you're giggling one moment and pouring out your soul the next, it's fucking ridiculous!"

 

"I'm not _pouring_ my soul out to anyone! I was _talking_ to the man who has given us some much needed rejuvenation for the night. I was being _polite_. I was doing the appropriate thing."

 

"There was nothing appropriate about it." Emma snarled under her breath. She couldn't tell if Regina had heard or not. "I don't know what could possibly be your reasoning but need I remind you that we don't know these men, they could be very dangerous for all we know, and if we let anything valuable slip, they could turn on us in an instant. If Hood is as good to the poor as they say, then he'd take the first opportunity possible to be rid of a royal and to use the reward money for good."

 

"Well then it's a good thing I told him nothing then!" Regina shouted back. Both women were practically fuming, and the alcohol had evidently gone to their heads with the venom laced in their tones.

 

"It looked like you were getting pretty damn cosy!"

 

"What has that got to do with anything?!"

 

"I don't know; ale, the firelight, a handsome stranger willing to sweep you off your feet, isn't that what queens are into these days?!"

 

Regina's shocked deepened even further. "I was having a conversation with the man who's given us food and a safe place for the night. I'm trying to _decrease_ the risk!"

 

"You’ve gotta learn that not all men are honourable. If they want something, they take it."

 

"Oh trust me, I am _intimately_ aware of this fact." The utter self-loathing in the statement startled Emma, and she felt herself recoiling slightly, but she was too wound up to back down now.

 

"What? You in your ivory tower? I find that difficult to believe."

 

"I could tell you things about _that man_ that would turn your stomach. There is a reason I had to escape, at all costs, and it's not just because I was bored." Regina hissed dangerously. She was steadily advancing on Emma, fear and fury merging through her recounting. "That man who people call their King is nothing more than the scum of city streets. He has a palace and a kingdom and a daughter he adores; the only differences. When I was forced to marry him at _eighteen_ , I blamed myself. Told myself that he wouldn't do such things if I were simply a better wife, but I learnt that it wasn't me, it was his own twisted mind, the one only I, and the walls of his bedchamber see. So yes, I know what men are capable of, and that man out there is no King, and for that, I am grateful."

 

"I am _not_ turning this into a pity-off. I'm warning you that your tongue will get you into tricky situations if you don't know how to stop it running away with you. I have no interest in what you do with yourself, as long as it doesn't put me in danger."

 

Regina inwardly recoiled at the venomous tone. Emma was angry, as angry as she'd seen her. She felt fury rise within herself. She was at _no_ fault here.

 

"I can assure you, Miss Swan, that I was doing nothing even _slightly_ dangerous. He was being friendly, I complied, he _is_ our host, after all."

 

"He was _certainly_ being friendly." Emma muttered to herself, loud enough for Regina to hear and roll her eyes.

 

"It's harmless, and indeed, none of your business."

 

"Well watch yourself, princess, because you cannot possibly judge his intentions."

 

Regina frowned and took a few steps closer. "You sound bitter, Swan. If you're so suspicious of him, use your ability, tell me if he's being dishonest."

 

"I wouldn't care to hear all the shit that's clearly working on you." She squared up to the Queen, refusing to be argued down by someone so naive. "Your desperation mars your judgement."

 

"I was _entirely_ passive in that situation!" Regina hissed. "You should have come and joined us to keep an eye on me if you were that worried."

 

"Oh, I was going to, before remembering that your usual responses to such interferences are far from calm!"

 

"You're paranoid. It was harmless!"

 

"It might not have been!" Emma stepped closer still, eyes locked on Regina's. She gritted her teeth.

 

"You immediately assume the worst of everybody!"

 

"I have to!"

 

"I thought I was untrusting after past experiences, but there is _definitely_ a reason why you're so alone. You're terrified of everyone and you're too busy pretending not to be to tell anyone why!"

 

"You really wanna start this, princess?" Emma growled, moving closer again. "You want to compare hardships? We all know that usually ends well!"

 

Regina's breathing was laboured slightly from shouting, her chest heaving under her loosely tied corset. The colour was high in Emma's cheeks and her entire body was tense with fury. She should have just let the forest thieves rob and rape her and saved herself all this damn trouble.

 

"I'm saying you need to believe me when I say I'll be careful, and not get paranoid because I have one conversation with a highly unsuspicious host!"

 

"And _I'm_ saying you need to believe _me_ when I give you practical advice and follow it, 'cause it might keep us alive!"

 

"You're being ridiculous!" Regina all but screamed. The frustration was making her want to tear her hair out, the impromptu rant seemingly springing from nowhere.

 

"You're being stupid!" Hissed Emma right back, standing so close now she could feel Regina's breathing clashing with her own. Fire flickered in brown eyes, reflecting the rage in her own. Anger was dangerous, it made one do terrible things. The heavy weight in the bottom of her stomach shifted uncomfortably.  

 

"You're being unreasonable! If you want my help, I suggest you exercise some self-control!" Emma could feel the magic rising with Regina's temper, crackling in the already fizzling air between them.

 

"Then help me, by thinking things through before running off with a total stranger!”

 

Regina’s eyes glittered warningly, Emma’s lips parted slightly.

 

“I’m not running anywhere, Miss Swan. I’m adapting to an abysmal situation. I’m learning, I’m being safe, despite what you think. You seem to be reacting pretty violently to something so trivial. I’d hate to put ulterior motives into question.” The Queen’s tone was dangerous, voice low and quiet, a hissed whisper. Her eyes darted from Emma’s down to the distance, or lack thereof, between them.

 

“Ulterior motives?”

 

“I’d hate to accuse you of envy.”

 

“Envy?”

 

“Envy.”

 

“Envy of _what…_ exactly?” Emma whispered right back, shadows collecting under her cheekbones and the hollows of her eyes.

 

“Appreciation. Someone pays me some attention, you feel it’s unjustified.”

 

“That’s ridiculous. I’d rather people _avoided_ me than followed me around like a lost puppy.”

 

“You’re isolated, you’re lonely, of course you are. But _stop_ layering blame on me when I have done _nothing_ to warrant this onslaught.”

 

Emma’s alcohol-worsened temper flared up all over again.

 

“I did _not_ drag you away from dear Robin to lecture you on dignity and force false pity from you, _princess._ I need you to get it into you little air-filled head that you’re endangering us.” The height difference, though tiny, had never felt greater than now, as Emma loomed over her.

 

“I think you’ll just use any excuse to work yourself up and shout at me, throwing the same excuses over and over again; _I know so much more than you, stupid palace brat. You’re useless and dangerous and volatile and a total burden on me and anyone unfortunate enough to come across you._ Well I’m _not_ useless, and I’m _not_ stupid, and I’m sick of hearing that because of personal prejudices, so get your twisted mind around the fact that you’re _stuck with me_ if you want to maintain even a _glimmer_ of hope at finding your son!” She spat, eyes dark and infinite and _oozing_ power and malevolence and it sent thrills and fire through Emma’s veins and up and down her spine over and over again.

 

“Could’ve fooled me, princess, because you have done _nothing_ but get us into trouble, risking our lives on _multiple_ occasions. So stop putting words in my mouth and accept my goddamn advice for once before it’s too late!”

 

“Oh please, your exaggeration is a mask for your _hate._ ”

 

“ _HATE?!_ I saved your fucking _life,_ many times, and you’re as ungrateful as ever. You can’t claim hate just because I distrust you, and for good reason!”

 

“Yes, _hate._ I’m terribly sorry to have burdened you with my _insufferable_ presence for so long, I know it must be very frustrating, given how useless and stupid I am.” Her tone dripped with sarcastic imitation, and it enraged Emma further. “I shan’t any longer! I’ll leave you to be safe and alone all over again until the next unfortunate traveller wanders unknowingly into your path, and you can scream at _them_ for no reason over and over again, and disagree at every turn. I thought perhaps there was a mutual understanding here, Swan, I thought maybe we had an unspoken agreement after the first few days to not rip each other’s throats out as a matter of practicality, but it’s evidently _far too difficult_. So I apologise for making your existence infinitely worse and more unbearable, and this might as well be where we part ways because we are obviously never _ever_ going to get along!”

 

Her rant had been little under screaming, and it left her breathless and exhausted and _furious_ and confused. Emma could feel alcohol causing her vision to swim slightly, and all she could focus on were endlessly dark eyes, _like they were at the lake,_ so very close, and moon-touched skin and _she was infuriating beyond measure._

 

It was a mutual and almost _instantaneous_ movement. Emma surged forward, pulling the Queen into her and crushing their lips together. Regina showed not even a hint of reluctance, merely a stammer of surprise, then she threw herself into the moment. Emma couldn’t hear anything over the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears, not the whisper of trees around them, or the small gasp Regina let out against her mouth.

The kiss was angry, all pent up frustration and aggression, Emma biting full lips and Regina tangling her hands in blonde hair. The air crackled around them with magic and fury and Emma barely registered Regina forcing her backwards until her back hit the trunk of a tree. A groan caught in her throat as she gave back everything given, shocked at Regina’s display of dominance but still so _angry_ and confused and genuine _lust_ clouded her brain like it hadn’t in years and her tongue invaded Regina’s mouth, tangling with the brunette’s as her hands slipped down to the dip of the small of her back, pulling her roughly closer. Lips that had hissed insults, thrown teases and driven Emma mad in more ways than one moved firmly against hers with long buried passion and heat that had evidently been supressed for too long, and she felt terrifyingly powerless, and couldn’t bring herself to care.

 

Regina’s grip was bruising and Emma had pulled her completely against her. Images of the siren and the lake flashed through her mind at a breakneck pace as Regina practically _growled_ against her mouth, pushing her hips into Emma’s and pulling her hair in a way that was borderline feral, Emma sighing into her. The siren had been correct, there was no way she would be able to deal with this, no way of forgetting the Queen’s body crushed against her own, or the way her heartbeat soared and her lower stomach burned and her head swam through _one kiss._ Her desperation for contact and an outlet was matched entirely by the brunette, who had shut off her rational mind, just for a few moments, and allowed herself this, allowed herself both a victory and a surrender.

 

And then reality came crashing down and Regina realized that instead of trying to get through this little expedition with as little fuss as possible and without tearing the head off her accomplice, she was now pressing said accomplice against a tree and kissing her in a way that was entirely new; a fierce and angry passion that Daniel had never brought about through his good nature and loving words. She came to her senses at almost exactly the same time as Emma, who remembered who Regina was and _what_ she was and realized that she shouldn’t even be doing this, let alone enjoying it.

 

They broke apart with a gasp and Regina stumbled back, a look of pure alarm on flushed features. Emma stood against the tree, breath coming out in pants, lips bruised and humming and blood rushing, eyes burning. Neither said anything, just stared in complete shock for what felt like centuries, Regina internally berating herself for tracing the shape of Emma’s kiss-reddened lips and elegant throat, mouth dry, pupils wide. This could not go any further.

 

Regina shook her head, mouth open slightly, and without a word, turned and strode out of the clearing and back towards the camp. Emma remained against the tree, damp, cold bark pressing into her back, flushed and frustrated and angry at both Regina and herself for losing control so disastrously.

 

She slid down to sit on the forest floor against the tree, her thoughts a vortex of confusion and adrenaline, and chastised herself for her weakness and let the horror overwhelm her when she realized just how much more difficult she had made this journey.

 

When she returned to the campsite much _much_ later, the outlaw band were quiet. Regina was wrapped in Hood’s blanket, but slept a respectable distance away from him, glowing embers flickering light across features that looked troubled, even in repose. Emma settled down on the opposite side of the clearing, and it wasn’t long before her exhausted body succumbed to sleep, her subconscious dredging up images of dazed dark eyes and full red lips.

 

Not too long after the blonde thief fell asleep, the sun rose, peeking over the tops of trees to reveal a new day.

 


	24. Chapter 24

As the campsite stirred with the new day, Emma decided that this needed to end as abruptly as it had begun.

 

They would leave the company of these men immediately, and continue on their way, taking risks whenever necessary to ensure that they arrived at the estate of the Dark One as quickly as possible, and then she could get away from her. There was a discomfort crawling under her skin, clawing out of her eyes and probing at the back of her mind, and it made her stomach turn with something akin to fear. She needed her son, that is all, that was her goal and had been for years, and she was so close now. She wondered what he was like. Of course she had formed a picture in her mind long ago; brown hair like his father and green eyes like her. He’d still be so small, only a child, little more than a baby in her eyes, but he’d be tough. She’d teach him how to survive and watch with pride as he grew up into the wonderful young man she was sure he would be, he _could_ be, and she’d enjoy every second whilst also proving that he didn’t need a father, and she didn’t need a husband.

 

She wondered if he was anything like she thought he was.

 

She wouldn’t have to wonder for too much longer, she hoped.

 

She needed Henry, that’s all.

 

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else? Your journey certainly sounds like a long one.”

 

“We’ll be fine, thank you.” She said curtly. Hood made no initial reaction, but surprise flickered through his eyes.

 

“We are very grateful for your help and hospitality.” Offered Regina quickly. She wanted to send Emma a hard look to reprimand her for her coldness, but consciously avoided it.

 

Hood beamed. He turned to face her, leaving Emma to meticulously check the contents of her satchel in case the thieves were as light-fingered as their reputation claimed.

 

“It’s been a pleasure. You have made for delightful company, ma’am.”

 

Emma’s teeth gritted of their own accord.

 

Regina found herself smiling more than perhaps necessary, if only to spite Emma for being so miserable. The blonde made short work of organising herself and bidding a brisk farewell to the Merry Men, before once more thanking their host.

 

“I hope I shall run into you two intriguing ladies again, it has been enlightening getting to know people from an entirely different kingdom.”

 

 _It’s been delightful getting to know Regina._ Emma corrected to herself, but said nothing, merely smiled tightly and nodded.

 

As much as she wished to get on their way as soon as possible, part of her was dreading being alone with Regina. The weight in her stomach had gotten even heavier after the night before, and she realized that spending the foreseeable future around a woman she was desperately trying to avoid making eye contact with was going to be a near-impossible feat. The previous night was a strange blur of anger and alcohol and she hated the fact that she _knew_ she was avoiding thinking about what had happened too much because she knew there were certain unresolved _urges_ and emotions that were just _begging_ to be addressed/expressed, but she wouldn’t let herself go there. It was an anomaly of confusing lust and conflicting thoughts and she didn’t realise that a woman’s lips could be so _captivating_ and she would have to completely block out these thoughts from then on, or go insane trying.

 

Emma hovered awkwardly at the edge of the campsite and pretended to be getting her bearings of the area as Hood graciously kissed the back of Regina’s hand. The Queen smiled simply, didn’t even blush, Emma supposed she was probably used to that sort of treatment. Having thanked him for what to Emma seemed like the hundredth time, she finally crossed the clearing to join Emma, casting a small wave back in the direction of the Merry Men, who were departing in the opposite direction.

 

And then they were alone together.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

If Regina had thought that the atmosphere between the two of them had been tense before, it was at a nearly incomprehensible level now. She hadn’t looked Emma in the eye all morning, and didn’t think she had the guts to. They walked silently through the forest, heading East towards the Dark One’s castle, both stiff and expressionless and with respective minds screaming at them from within their own heads. Regina had never lost control like that, never felt so totally consumed by the moment that she’d crossed an unspoken and supposedly immovable boundary. She’d never been kissed like that either, roughly and angrily and without reservation or hesitation or nervousness. She was unaccustomed to passion, having felt the soft warmth of childhood love and the distaste, disgust and eventual detachment of a forced marriage, and nothing else. The memory was vivid and colourful and confusing and she deliberately swerved well clear of remembering any specific details that might cause her to do something stupid like blush or remember who she was or what she was doing there in the first place.

 

It was hours, but it felt like millennia, before the tense silence was broken. Emma didn’t turn around as she spoke.

 

“There’s a town up ahead. We need supplies, but it’s bigger than the one we stopped at before. It’ll be risky, but if we keep our heads down, hopefully we won’t run into any trouble.”

 

“Robin mentioned that there were Royal Guard—“

 

“Yes well he has no idea of our situation. We’re stopping there. Hood’s men gave me this.”

 

She pulled a handful of material out of her satchel. As she held it upright, Regina saw that it was a cloak. Not a particularly thick one, it would offer little in the way of shelter against the rain.

 

“What use is that?”

 

The pregnant pause indicated that Emma was fast losing her patience with what she clearly saw as the Queen’s total ignorance.

 

“You’re to put it on, and not take it off until we are settled for the night. The hood should cover enough of your face to avoid drawing attention to ourselves, but the least you could do is to try and blend in.” _For once,_ she added silently.

 

“If we keep our heads down and find somewhere inconspicuous, we should be fine. The town is just big enough that newcomers will not draw attention.”

 

Regina said nothing, hoping that her silence indicated agreement with the plan. Emma had not turned around to look at her throughout the entire curt exchange. This was going to be _painful…_

-*-*-*-*-

 

No more discussion ensued. Emma spent the day’s trek with her lips pressed firmly together, ploughing on through the forest without looking back to check on Regina, avoiding all major paths through the trees to keep to the shadows, keep out of sight. Regina would perhaps have been bored, if it weren’t for her discomfort. The silence and ample time gave her mind plenty of opportunities to traitorously return to thoughts of the night before.

 

Spending all day staring at the thief’s back did not help either, and by the time afternoon began to transmute into evening, she had almost memorised the exact shade of her hair, and the way the light caught subtle white-blonde strands within as it shifted on her shoulders as she walked. Regina thought that having hair that long must be hideously impractical for a forest-dweller, especially if washing supplies were limited, yet blonde locks fell in untidy curls in a way that was effortlessly endearing, and Regina couldn’t help but contemplate how they were almost the polar opposite of each other in looks…in most aspects, she supposed…

 

As the town emerged from in between the trees, Emma handed Regina the cloak and the brunette slipped it on, pulling the hood securely over her head so her face was in shadow. She didn’t know how many people there would have actually seen her in person, but she figured she was probably recognisable enough that all it would take was one person among many and their location would be exposed.

 

“Try not to look suspicious. I know subtlety is not your strong point, but at least _attempt_ not to get us killed this time.”

 

Regina glared at the back of her head, but responded with nothing. Things were still uncomfortable, and she didn’t want to wander into territory that could perhaps lead back to their…discretion…

 

The town was indeed bigger than the previous one. Even as night approached, the street was alive with people weaving in and out of one another. Cart vendors attempted to flog the last of the day’s wares before packing up, a mother pulled a screaming child away from a group of stray cats and off down the street, the barber turned the sign on his door to “closed” as he saw out the last clean-shaved customer, and cloaks and wraps were pulled closer around passers-by as the night’s chill started to creep steadily into bones. There were two Royal Guards stationed at the top of the high street, but appeared to be deep in casual conversation. Emma slowed her pace, closing the gap between herself and Regina semi-protectively as green eyes scoured the street, trying to subtly seek out any further danger. Regina pulled her cloak tighter around her, tilting her head downwards to avoid eye contact and ensuring not a whisper of her face could be seen by those around her.

 

As Emma slid down a side street, she dropped back even further and turned her face into the material of Regina’s hood. “Listen. There’s a tavern where we can spend the night, so we’re going to go there, and you are going to _stay_ there whilst I get some supplies. You are _not_ to leave the room. In fact, don’t even go near the _window_. It would take one glance from a passer-by and we’ll be being dragged off to the palace dungeons by your dear husband. Understand?”

 

“I’m not a child.” Regina hissed back, lowering her voice as a tramp looked up from the gutter with cold dead eyes.

 

“So don’t make me treat you like one.”

 

Emma hurried on down the street and Regina followed, focusing on maintaining her footing on uneven cobbles. Having slunk through the grimy labyrinth of back alleys, they finally emerged into a larger street, though less populated than Regina had expected.

 

The tavern Emma pulled her into was decidedly seedier than the one they had previously stayed in, smaller and grubbier and darker. However, it wasn’t nearly as loud or bustling, and sat in a nondescript corner of the street, sign swinging melancholically above the narrow entrance. Emma ushered her in first.

 

“A room please. For the night.” She asked the landlord.

 

“For two?”

 

“Ideally, yes.”

 

The man was squat and as run-down looking as his establishment. He handed Emma a key and peered at Regina’s figure behind the blonde. Emma subtly shifted in front of the brunette.

 

“It’s six gold pieces for a night.”

 

Emma nodded and handed over the payment, before all but shoving Regina up the creaking staircase and into the pleasantly claustrophobic room that would serve as a sanctuary for the night.

 

“Stay here.” Emma reiterated from the door. “Please don’t do anything stupid, I hope that’s not too much to ask.” And with that she turned and walked away, throwing the key onto the bedside table then pulling the door shut with unnecessary force.

 

The room was small, with a high ceiling and a single window. There were no washing facilities, Regina assumed if there were any they were down the hall, and the bed barely looked big enough for one, let alone two. Well, there was no way that she was sharing a bed with the thief after the incident the night before, so she would graciously volunteer to sleep on the floor under their blankets, and with the way Emma was treating her so curtly, she guessed it wouldn’t take much convincing.

 

She slipped out of the cloak after drawing the drapes over the window, the thin material letting the quickly fading light filter into the dusty little room. She wondered how long Emma would be gone, as there was nothing to do up in the room. She simply sat on the bed, taking the weight off her legs after a day of walking, and sighed, rolling her head on her neck to ease the tension in the muscles of her shoulders. She was getting physically stronger and more enduring day by day, but the travelling still took it out of her.

 

Deciding to rest for a moment before starting to think of a way to defeat this powerful magical foe of Emma’s, she lay back into the hard mattress of the bed. Within minutes, exhaustion took over.


	25. Chapter 25

Tucking the final payment into her bag, Emma took off down the now nearly deserted street, heading for the inn. The last of her stolen goods had been sold or traded for supplies. She’d bought some bread and dried fruit in the hope it would keep, and a medicine made form herbs to rub on wounds to avoid infection, a remedy she had thought would be useful should them run into any more trouble.

 

Despite having been to the town no more than twice, through her life as an outlaw, Emma had picked up valuable pieces of information from fellow thieves or friends, hence she knew who would buy a slightly dented gold bangle from her for the best price without gossiping to the law.

 

Night had fallen and there were more Royal Guard out than there had been earlier. They were now present on practically every street, some on horses, some with full amour and weaponry, and some with simple swords or pistols. Their omnipresence rendered Emma even more uneasy. The stakes were getting higher by the day, and if she knew royalty, which come to think of it, she did _personally_ know, the King would not give up easily. Within a week, the place would be crawling, and the reward would have increased massively as well. Emma thought that this would have to be their last public pit stop, before the risks got too high.

 

When she had crept back up to the room, she knocked lightly on the door.

 

“It’s me.” She whispered into the wood. No response. She frowned.

 

_If that woman had gone wandering off on her own in a town full of soldiers wanting to catch her when Emma had specifically told her not to…_

She tried the door, only to discover it was unlocked. _Nice one, Regina. That’s really safe,_ she thought.

 

It seemed that the Queen had accidentally fallen asleep, and thus forgotten to lock the door. There was no chance that the blonde would be sleeping in the same bed as her, that’s for sure. It was difficult enough already to keep her mind on track, the last thing she needed was close physical proximity to the woman she both _despised_ sometimes, and yet had apparently formed some twisted attraction towards. No, she’d take the floor. _Thanks a lot, princess._ She thought bitterly as she made a makeshift bed on the cold wooden floorboards with the two blankets in her possession.

 

She slipped out of her boots and jacket. Tomorrow morning she would rouse Regina early and they would wash quickly before putting as much distance between themselves and the town as possible. Emma lit a candle on the bedside table as she organised herself.

 

 _Things would be made a lot easier if she wasn’t so goddamn beautiful._ She thought angrily to herself as soft candlelight played over delicate, sleep-softened features. She hoped that prolonged exposure to the woman at her frankly _least_ elegant would perhaps mean her appearance would become commonplace to Emma, and not something that in moments like this, took her breath away.

 

She all but growled under her breath at the Queen, lying on small bed of a dingy tavern as if it were the four-poster in the palace. _Goddamn her._

Emma needed sleep, that was for sure. So she left Regina where she was, terrified of what she might do if she were to wake her, and wrapped herself up in blankets on the floor, curled up in a tight ball as Regina had done the first night they had been in each other’s company, and fell fitfully asleep.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

“Wake up! It’s dawn! I’m pretty certain that was our designated time of departure.” Regina mumbled to herself, prodding Emma in the back with her foot. She felt terribly guilty about forcing the thief to sleep on the floor all night, but she’d been genuinely exhausted, and had accidentally monopolised the bed.

 

Emma mumbled drowsily, and shifted, eyes blinking open, and upon seeing the current reigning Queen towering over her, fully dressed and prepared to leave, jolted further awake.

 

“Dawn…” she murmured, looking round the small room to re-orientate herself, and noticing the light streaming through thin cotton curtains. “Shit…” She sat further upright. She thought Regina was about to chide her on her bad language, but the brunette said nothing, simply moved away to take the half-melted candle from its candlestick on the table and slip it into the satchel. Emma noticed that her hair fell in smooth, slightly damp waves down her back, before she set about tying it up as usual.

 

“Have you washed?”

 

“Yes. If you wish to, I suggest you get a move on. As you said, once the day starts, this town will be crawling with threats. It’s probably best we leave as soon as possible.”

 

Emma was about to bite back with something along the lines of when exactly was Regina appointed in charge, before realising that she had woken last, an embarrassing weakness she would not allow herself to do again.

 

“I’m sorry, by the way. I was going to let you sleep on the bed, but I guess I drifted off.” Regina’s tone was light, and didn’t seem all that apologetic. A deliberate move on the brunette’s part to reassure herself that nothing had changed and they were still tiresomely bickering and barely getting along. She wondered just how much convincing it would take before she actually believed it.

 

“Um…it’s fine. I’m used to it.” Emma said bitterly, voice still heavy, and she stumbled to her feet, stretching complaining limbs and folding up her makeshift bed.

 

“So…you left the room alone?”

 

Regina rounded on her, eyebrows raised, eyes rolling.

 

“Yes, I ventured down the hall to use the washroom. I’m terribly sorry I went all of twelve feet, but don’t worry, I checked for assassins under the towel.” Her sarcasm was still fresh as ever, Emma noted. She would have scolded her rash move if she was awake enough, and if she hadn’t slept in later than anticipated.

 

So she simply scoffed her disapproval and edged out of the room and down towards the washroom herself.

 

When she returned, fresher and more awake, Regina was sitting on the bed, absent-mindedly twisting her diamond bracelet round a slim wrist, looking entirely lost in thought.

 

“Well, um…since we seem to have everything, we should probably get going. We’ll stop to eat once we’re out of the town.”

 

Regina pliantly followed her out of the room and down into the hall, where they returned the key and left through the front door, stepping out into the crisp morning air.

 

“This way.” Emma instructed, slipping further off down the alley, and emerging on a street just stirring, but still pretty much deserted.

 

“Don’t fall behind.”

 

Winding their way through streets, Regina wondering how on earth Emma could know exactly where she was going, they ducked away from glances, Regina subtly pulling the hood of the cloak further down her face, knowing she must look highly suspicious doing so.

 

Within a matter of minutes, they had left the town, climbing the incline of a hill, glancing behind them with attention verging on paranoia. Once safely back under the cover of trees, Regina slipped the hood from her head, breathing in the smell of damp plants and wood that had become worryingly comforting throughout this ordeal; it represented shelter and comfort in a way.

 

Silence was still present, slightly less tense than before, but it was as if they could find no topic of conversation considered safe. Regina hated how much she dwelled still on the occurrence that had happened at the campsite. She could practically _hear_ her mother berating her. She had kissed a thief, a _criminal_ , and most importantly a _woman_ , and what was worse is that she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

 

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t process Emma turning around, eyes darting through the trees, ears metaphorically pricked. She didn’t hear the heavy sound of approaching hooves, didn’t full register the cracking of branches behind her, not until it was too late.

 

She spun round at the same time that Emma slipped her bow off her shoulder and loaded it, aiming it behind her. As her pulse thundered in her head, all she could see was red; panic and terror. She could only just make out over her heartbeat a sentence she really – _really –_ didn’t want to hear:

 

“Well, Your Majesty, this is certainly a fortunate surprise.”


	26. Chapter 26

He sat astride a horse. A big one, at that; all glossy black fir and wild eyes, the kind of deranged anger you want in a Guard horse. The man who had spoken was armed in Royal Guard uniform, a red sash round his upper arm indicating his position of authority. He had a face that looked as though it had been fashioned out of unbaked bread dough, uneven and stodgy, like all the colour had been drained from him, with near translucent skin and white blonde hair that fell over his forehead in a fringe that was too long, and half-covered his eyes.

 

There were six of them, and they had apparently appeared from nowhere, and Regina stood rooted to the spot, her brain trying to keep up with her eyes. All she could see was the red of his sash, taunting, blinding, consuming.

 

They were done for.

 

Emma grabbed her by the wrist and pulled the brunette behind her, facing the guards herself, bow at the ready. The other five men, all on horseback, had gathered and were closing in on the women, eyes glittering triumphantly.

 

“There are six of us, and one of you, thief. That bow will do no more than get you killed.” Said their leader. His voice was deep and slimy and Regina’s pulse was still throbbing in her head from the shock.

 

“Then I won’t waste my shot.” She said, turning the bow on the man. Regina saw her pull the string taut in preparation for release. She was serious. They were trapped. They had nothing to lose.

 

The arrow left her bow, the man ducked and it missed him by a hairsbreadth, but Emma was too focused on him to note the movement of another.

 

“Emma!” Regina shouted, as another guard had slid from his horse at the exact instant that Emma had shot, and had thrown his dagger with terrifying precision. Emma cried out as it sunk into her thigh.

 

Regina summoned her magic, drawing it to the surface of her skin, but she was confused and exhausted and caught completely off guard. Emma sunk to the ground in agony and Regina hurried forward to help her. The blonde guard dismounted and strode over to the Queen, seizing her by the arm and forcing her face up to inspect it. She struggled in his grip, eyes darting to the other men, also leaving their horses. She heard Emma stifle a sob as she clutched at her leg. She desperately began to think of a plan of action.

 

“Ah, it’s her alright.” Said the guard, and Regina recoiled from his harsh touch, his breath on her face, bristling with anger, and something that she hated to label as fear.

 

She struggled once again, trying to pull herself from his grip, but he was strong and she was _so tired_ and panicked. All she could think of was Emma, she had to help Emma, she had to make sure she was alright and they had to get away. They had come too far to be dragged back to the castle now.

 

“Here, your majesty, why do you struggle? We’re here to help! To return you to your King after the terrifying ordeal of capture under this petty criminal.”

 

He kicked Emma in the ribs, and she collapsed entirely, clutching her side and pulling her knees to her chest, eyes squeezed shut. Blood leaked from her leg at an alarming rate and Regina felt her throat close up, tears of terror gathering in her eyes.

 

“You will _not_ take me anywhere!” She shouted, jabbing her knee forward and planting it firmly in the guard’s crotch. He doubled over just long enough for her to wrestle herself free, and she bent down to grab Emma’s shoulder, shaking them.

 

“Come on, Emma – “

 

She barely got out her name before the other guards were upon her, dragging her away from the other woman and pinning her arms by her side. She thrashed in their grip, but they were strong and outnumbered her. Panic compressed her chest and she struggled to breathe, and watched in horror as the leader went over to Emma.

 

“Emma?” He asked curiously, toeing her with his boot and rolling her onto her back. Despite the crippling pain she was feeling, she summoned enough will to glare defiantly up at him through the tears blurring her vision. “Emma Swan? My my, this is an honour. You act too rashly, Swan.” He probed her thigh with his foot and she screamed as he agitated the wound. He bent down and pulled the dagger roughly from her leg and she screamed harder. Tears streamed from the Queen’s furious eyes.

 

“It seems we’ve hit the mother lode, fellas.” He called happily, looming over Emma. “The missing Queen.” He pointed the blood stained dagger at Regina. “And one of the most notorious outlaws the forest has ever know.” He indicated to Emma, still lying in a heap.

 

The men cheered. Regina tried desperately to summon some magic, but it wouldn’t come. She could barely breathe through panic and the grips of steel on her arms. She was suffocated, terrified, trapped, and she could not focus long enough to draw any power.

 

“Why do you not come willingly, your majesty?” He asked, slinking over to Regina. One of his men broke off to go to Emma and tie her hands behind her back. She made an attempt at batting him away, but he merely laughed gleefully at their success, and bound her wrists with rope.

 

“It cannot be, surely, that you ran away of your own accord?” He asked. His manner of speech was educated and smooth. It made Regina’s skin crawl.

 

“I will _not_ go with you. I am your Queen, and you will show some respect.” Regina declared with all the dignity she could muster. “You will release me, and you will release her, and you shall return to my husband and inform him that I do not wish to be ‘rescued’. In fact, I have no need of it. I have not been kidnapped.”

 

He laughed cruelly. “That’s all well and good, your majesty.” He said the address like an insult. “But we don’t get our reward unless we return you to the palace in one piece.”

 

“I’m not going _anywhere near_ that – “

 

She felt a fist in her side, and the impact knocked the air from her lungs. She gasped for breath as the men held her upright before their leader. He simply smirked on, evidently not in the least bit perturbed by attacking a royal.

 

“You’ll go where I say you’ll go. Don’t push me, your majesty, we’ve come an awful long way, and you’re obviously out of your mind. Familiar surroundings will remind you who you are and straighten out your thoughts. Come on lads, we leave right away.”

 

She twisted in her captors’ grip, but three of them held tight. Two more went over to Emma and seized her. She was pale, too pale, Regina’s stomach dropped and her heart leapt into her mouth at the blonde’s pasty complexion. She’d lost so much blood; it soaked the earth around where she had fallen and the usually sharp-acting thief was moving feebly on the floor. They wrenched her to her feet, and she stumbled when she could put no weight on her leg. They grabbed her roughly and pushed her forward. Regina heard her hiss as she leant on her leg. So much for contradicting female stereotypes, they were both crying desperate tears.

 

“Come along, your majesty. You may sit atop a horse. Your captor, however, cannot be trusted.” He sat astride his own beast, and cast a glance to his men holding Emma, gesturing with his head towards their own horses. Regina was dizzy from being winded, but struggled still against the grip holding her. Her squirming was brought to an abrupt stop, however, by a blow to the side of her head. Stars popped in her vision and she swayed dizzily on the spot, head throbbing, biting down on her tongue to stop herself crying out in pain.

 

“With you, Grantham.”

 

Arms hoisted Regina up, and despite the dead weight nature of her stance, she found herself being forced onto the back of the smallest horse, almost sliding off the other side with the force. Before she could seize any kind of control, the guard had slid up behind her, arms pulling her to his chest and grasping the reigns.

 

She felt sick, she felt dizzy, the pain of the blow still made itself known, and the blood trickling down the side of her face indicated that perhaps he had been holding something made of metal when he had struck her. She tried desperately, hopelessly to summon some magic, but her brain was slow and sluggish and she couldn’t focus. She thought of Emma, twisting round to see her, but was forced to face forwards again. She was hurt badly, she needed medical attention, she needed rest and bandages and she couldn’t lose any more blood. It soon became apparent by the two vacant horses that were drawn to the front of the party, that two of the guards were hovering at the back, and had Emma with them. They were making her walk, practically dragging her along behind them. She’ll die before we get to the palace, Regina thought, even without all the diversions they’d been taking, it was at least four days non-stop journey away, and they intended to make her _walk_? After they’d injured her? She’d die and it would be Regina’s fault.

 

“I do hope you’ll be good, your majesty.” Said the blonde guard. “I could always say that we found you tragically too late, brutally murdered by a common thief. She would be executed. Well, she’s likely to be anyway, considering her history of crimes. But then again, why would you care about the fate of your kidnapper?” He gave an oily smirk that suggested more to his statement.

 

He urged the party onwards, declaring that they would head straight for the palace, taking no stops, and arrive there as soon as possible.

 

“After all,” He said with another skin-crawling smirk back at Regina, before glancing over to where Emma must have been. “She’s gravely injured. She’s losing so much blood, she might not even see the end of this forest, let alone the castle.”

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

The blow to her head must have been hard, because hours later her ears were still ringing and her vision swimming slightly. She wondered if she was concussed, before she realized that it didn’t matter. They had been travelling for the whole day, and she was sore from sitting in the hard leather saddle and had become acclimatised to the uncomfortable sensation of the guard sitting behind her. 

All she could think about was Emma. She assumed that if she had physically died, they would have stopped, but they had been forced to slow several times because she had collapsed through sheer blood loss and it had taken a mere minute of rest, some forceful hits and Emma’s will to survive that had got her back on her feet and them all back on the move. She hoped that the guards would get so tired that they would rest for the night and perhaps help her, if only so they could collect the reward for bringing her to the palace alive. And if not, perhaps they’d let Regina help her. At this point, she was so sick with worry that she would rip all of her clothes into strips if it meant she had something to stop the bleeding.

Of course, it wasn’t long before Emma fell again, only this time she didn’t get up. She couldn’t. Regina felt her heart twisting in on itself as she saw the leader of the group, Bailey, they had called him, dismount to assist in forcing her to her feet. She heard the dull thud of hard boots into Emma’s flesh, but she didn’t rise. Regina thought she might be sick, she might do something stupid like faint or scream or start crying. No, she had always been good at hiding emotions, and this would be no exception. She didn’t know where all this terror had come from, they were barely what you would call friends, but the idea of the thief falling and never getting up again made her stomach churn and her eyes burn and her heart pound. No, she wouldn’t die. Regina wouldn’t allow her to.

“We’re gonna have to stop.” Bailey called. “She isn’t going to make it if we keep moving.”

Regina sighed in relief as she was roughly dragged off the horse and stood on unsteady legs. She was still being held by the guard she had ridden with, but on seeing Emma, she surged forward with such force that he was dragged with her.

The blonde was so pale she was almost grey, dark circles appearing under her dull eyes. Her gaze was unfocused, she was trembling, curled up on the floor, clutching her leg and seeing nothing, hearing nothing.

“We’re losing her.” Said a red headed guard, with complete apathy.

Bailey shrugged and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his tunic. “Right. We’ll stop here for the night, but not too long, we have to get moving.”

Regina knew the Royal Guard were trained to be able to function perfectly well with only a few hours sleep. They would not be here for very long.

They set about making a fire and passing flasks of some sort of alcohol between them, something Regina knew wasn’t protocol. They offered her nothing, merely held her in place, staring hopelessly down at Emma. Once they had made themselves more comfortable, her guard moved her towards Emma. He tied the rope binding her hands to the one binding Emma’s, and then wrapped it round a tree.

“Let me help her.” She demanded coldly. 

“No. We can’t have you two thinking you can run off.” Said Bailey.

“She’ll die. Don’t you want the full reward for her alive arrest?”

He looked at her, then at the guard who had tied her there, then at Emma and her sickly complexion, then back to Regina.

He nodded to the guard again, who moved to unbind Regina’s ropes. “If you make any move, either of you, we’ll be returning you both in a box.”

The guard left Emma tied up, but freed Regina, remaining nearby and armed in case she tried anything.

As soon as she was free, she leapt to Emma’s rescue, gently easing her leg out from underneath her to closer inspect it. She had no idea what she was doing, just that she knew she had to stop the blood, which had been leaking slowly out of her body all day. It was barely a trickle now, but a trickle none the less.

“Emma, please, hold on, ok? You’re going to be alright, we both are, just let me sort you out.” She murmured what she hoped was comfortingly. Emma made no response, but her absent gaze met Regina’s and softened slightly in recognition of what she was trying to do.

Regina tore off a section of her underskirt, the part she thought would be the cleanest without all the dirt of the forest staining it. She ripped the material of Emma’s trousers away, getting a better look at the badly healed stab wound, which was too deep for her liking. She set about wrapping the makeshift bandage round her leg, tightening it and trying it and ignoring Emma’s intake of breath as she put pressure on it.

“Come on, Emma. It’s going to be fine. Look at me, don’t bleed out on me, ok?” She was incoherent with worry now, but the bandage looked substantial, and red hadn’t started to stain white…yet.

Emma reached up and weakly grasped Regina’s skirt, tugging her quietly closer. The brunette saw what she was trying to do, and leant down. “Are you alright?”

“We…we have to escape…” It was a whisper, little more than breathing, and Regina only just picked it up, casting a cautious glance to the guard nearest to them to check that he couldn’t hear. She nodded.

“Your – your magic…”

“I can’t.” She whispered back. “They hit me pretty hard, my mind’s muddled. Besides, it isn’t safe. I could kill you.”

Emma managed to shake her head. “You have...to...try. Please…”

Regina took another quick glance around, drawing herself even closer to Emma. “Not yet. You’re dying. We need to use their –“

“What are you whispering about?” Bailey sneered from his horse.

“She’s dying.” Regina spoke up, voice wavering slightly. “Do you have any alcohol? Or clean bandages? Or food? She’ll die if she doesn’t get some medical attention immediately.”

Bailey looked as if he were about to deny her what she had asked for, but having stared at Emma for a few seconds, decided it was in his best interests, and reached inside the saddlebag of his horse, drawing out a smaller bag. He tossed it over to her.

“Hurry. We aren’t staying.” 

She opened the bag to find it full of medical supplies, standard issue she assumed, but she knew how to use virtually none of them. She tried her best though, replacing the makeshift bandage with a tighter, stronger, cleaner one, after making sure the wound was clean and pressing the skin together as Emma’s breathing became ragged with pain and her eyes slid shut and her pulse slowed as consciousness slipped away. Regina whispered whatever comfort she could conjure to her as she worked, the deep-set panic still present. She couldn’t die. She wouldn’t die.

Not now. Not after everything…

Soon she had patched her up sufficiently and persuaded Bailey to give her an piece of soft fruit that looked foreign, but was obvious not poisonous, since they were all eating them. He had evidently expected them to share it, but Regina dutifully cut it up and fed every segment to Emma, little by little, coaxing some nourishment back into her as she held her head and gently tipped some water down her throat. 

“You have to cause a distraction…then run…or hide, that might be better…” Emma croaked, eyes drooping shut, from fatigue or blood loss, Regina didn’t know, potentially both.

“You can’t run. I can’t control who my magic does and doesn’t kill.”

“It doesn’t matter. If they get me to the palace, I’ll be executed anyway. There’s…there’s no need for us both to end up there…” She was so weak that Regina felt tears pushing behind her eyes at a pitiful sight she never expected to see.

“If you think I’m killing you, you are hideously mistaken…”

Emma managed to shake her head and crack her eyes open to look up at her. “You have to –“

“What are you two whispering about over there?!”

Bailey strode over, suspicion evident.

Regina glared. “Nothing. I’m trying to save her life after one of your men fatally injured her.” She snapped.

He smirked in a way that reminded her of the way her mother used to when she knew exactly what Regina had done wrong, exactly how she had disobeyed her, and her stomach twisted.

“You almost seem concerned, your majesty. Surely this little forest thief doesn’t mean anything to you?”

She swallowed and met his gaze unflinchingly. She knew that showing any weakness would just be a means of exploitation. These men may have been initially charged with protecting her and serving her husband, but they were ruthless, apathetic and greedy, and she was fearful, despite her position.

He laughed. His teeth were small and pointy, like tiny stalagmites and stalactites in the wet cave of his cruel mouth. She bit her tongue to stop her saying something she would regret.

He moved forward, quickly, without warning, in Emma’s direction and Regina acted on impulse as his hand reached out towards the thief. The sound of her palm against his cheek seemed to echo for seconds after, and he stared in disbelief at the Queen, who looked on the verge of terrified, but still defiant in her protective stance. Emma flinched on the floor, eyes open and flitting between the two. His hand came up to the stinging red patch on his cheek, eyes glittering dangerously, and he smirked. Regina forced herself not to tremble. 

“You seem to be under a delusion with regards to who has the power here, your majesty.” Her title has never sounded more like a derogatory term. “And you’re rash. Too rash. A lady should be refined. We are to return you alive to claim our reward, but I think you would perhaps benefit from a lesson in life…”

When he moved, Regina steeled herself for a blow that never came. Instead, the hand he had moved pressed against the newly bandaged wound on Emma’s thigh, pressing so hard that the white cloth was soon stained with fresh crimson. Regina thought the whole forest must be able to hear the ear-splitting scream that’s torn from Emma’s throat.

Regina moved instinctively to strike him again, but there was suddenly a very rough, very strong hand round her throat, crushing her windpipe and causing her vision to shift and spin. She struggled to breathe as the grotesque smirk never left his doughy face, looming far too close.

“I’ve been refraining from hurting you too badly, your majesty, for insurance reasons, but you’re getting that bit too difficult to handle humanely. It’s a pity, you’re both so lovely and pretty, I was hoping not to have to leave scars…” 

Regina noticed that the rest of the troop had gathered, enclosing them in a threatening circle, like scavengers round a carcass. As his grip on her throat tightened, she reached up and dragged her nails down the side of his face, leaving red welts and causing him to cry out angrily, but she didn’t catch what he hissed because suddenly there was a very heavy, slightly sharp object hitting her temple at with startling force and knocking her to the ground beside Emma. The sound of their laughter swam to the surface of her mind, and she thought she was going to pass out again. 

She looked over at Emma, and stared into tear filled green eyes. It was the same locking of gazes that had occurred when the wolf pack had attacked; the same desperate pleading for salvation with the only other person who could save you, only this time, it was inverted. Regina saw the thief’s sheet white complexion and valiant struggle against unconsciousness, and then saw a member of the guard leering over her reach for his belt, and she realized that this was it, the last resort, there was no way out.

She curled in on herself tighter, blocking out the jeering of the men and the choking sound of agony from Emma, focusing not on the throbbing of her head and the screaming of her rationality, but instead on that innate, raw part of her, that core of magic entrenched within her soul, and forced it to grow and swell. She was losing the fight against her sluggish mind that was closing off as the seconds passed and a guard was reaching for her and she didn’t want to wait and find out what it was he wanted, and so closed her eyes and gritted her teeth and forced what power the situation had ignited in her out or every pore.

When a dam bursts, an onrush of water springs from nowhere, unstoppable and powerful beyond measure in those first few seconds of release, and from a high built wall of control, her magic swept through her at a force so great that it physically shook her. Her head felt compressed and her blood on fire and her heart exploding and it felt a lot like being ripped apart from the inside out. It was uncontrollable, and yet her last coherent thoughts were a desperate willing that it might spare Emma, but a current like that answers to nothing.

She registered nothing but the sound of her blood thudding in her ears before she passed out through sheer exertion.


	28. Chapter 28

She didn’t know how long she’d been lying, curled up, waiting for it all to stop. She might have passed out, it might have been for hours, it might have been days. The sheer _noise_ in her head threw her off course, and she thought that maybe nothing had happened and they were just shouting at her all at once. She thought perhaps with a jolt of dread that this is what death was like, but only briefly, because she could feel the throbbing of her blood and the hard ground and she was in _so much pain_ , but she wasn’t quite sure what part of her was hurting.

 

She cracked open her eyes.

 

The first thing she saw was Emma, across from her, unmoving, white as marble, the blood leaking from the now-crimson bandage over her wound onto the forest floor. Dread lurched from her stomach into her throat. She’d killed her. Her magic had been like she’d never experienced; not just uncontrolled, but raw and animalistic and it felt like it had ripped her apart from the inside out. She couldn’t have chosen who lived and who died. She didn’t know why she had ever thought someone as close to her in proximity as Emma would be safe from her power. She felt tears pooling in stinging eyes.

 

Pretty soon, however, she realized that it mustn’t have been her that caused Emma to look like that.

 

It took her turning her head slightly to have the next horrific shock thrown over her like cold water. The men were gone at first glance, perhaps fled or just dissolved by her surge of protective power. Then she noticed the carnage, and had to fight to stop herself retching.

 

The guards were…everywhere. Whatever she had done had been more powerful than initially anticipated. A wide radius of the ground was splattered red, and _bits_ of them littered the area. Over to her left was most of someone’s torso, several arms and legs lay forlornly separate from the rest of the body they had come from, and armour, leather and internal organs had been mixed up and thrown a considerable distance away. She briefly considered counting heads to see if any had got away, but then realized it was highly unlikely that any of them had. Besides, several heads were not in one peace, making it more difficult, and as tough as she’d had to become by this point, the gory sight turned her stomach.

 

She turned back to Emma, kneeling down to inspect her. Her skin was cold and dewy, her eyes closed. _She’s lost so much blood._

 

She fumbled around her neck for a pulse, but couldn’t find one. She called her name and shook her shoulder and held her face; nothing. She felt tears slipping over her dirt-covered cheeks.

 

“Come on, Emma…we’ve got this far…don’t give up now…” She wasn’t sure why she thought _begging_ would help, but she wasn’t thinking about what she was saying.

 

She leaned down, pulling back her eyelids, and looking into sightless eyes. She fought back sobs ineffectively, and was shocked as something sharp and agonising and sudden pierced her heart, terrified by the force of the emotion she was feeling. She brought her face closer to Emma’s as she cried harder, tracing her thumbs over cold cheekbones to try and rub some life back into her.

 

“Please... _oh god..._ ”

 

It was then that she felt a miniscule stirring of breath against her cheek, barely there, like a draft in a stuffy room, tiny and feeble, but she clung to it.

 

She gasped in a shuddering breath and sprung into action, removing the bandages and grimacing at the still-seeping wound. It looked pretty infected, which is the worst thing to happen at that time, but she forced herself to think. The soldiers had supplies, with their horses, there was bound to be medical supplies there.

 

They had tied the horses up by a river a short distance away so they could graze and drink freely, and were fortunate enough to be outside the range of the power surge, peacefully chewing on grass and entirely unaware that they were now ownerless. Regina rummaged around in the saddlebags until she found the leather pouch filled with bottles and bandages. She had no training or even knowledge in this area, but would have to learn in practice.

 

She worked quickly, with dread seeping out of every pore, her thoughts screaming at her from inside her head and she was lethargic and shaking from her magical outburst. She soaked the wound in a bottle of cleaning alcohol which she thought would stop it getting any more septic, and then swallowed thickly and steeled herself as she took a needle and began stitching up the gash, pushing it closed and begging that it wasn’t too painful, even though Emma had not stirred. She bandaged it up again with clean cloth, and returned to the horses to retrieve some food and water, breaking the bread into tiny pieces and pulling apart the soft fruit with her fingers.

 

Emma still wasn’t moving. She hadn’t got any paler, but that might have been because it was likely she _couldn’t_. She started to panic, and then sat back for a few second, pulling her knees to her chest and forcing herself to calm down. This was no time to worry herself into a stupor. Emma needed her, she would have to put her own emotions on hold.

 

After holding her face, shaking her shoulder and calling her name, Regina realised that she was dying. She was very nearly there, in fact, breathing shallow and feeble, cold and white. Regina took three deep breaths, then acted on instinct as opposed to forethought, and placed her hands on Emma’s chest, palms flat down. She closed her eyes and focused, her power seeping out of her body, curling in the air around her. She searched in the darkness for the thread of life, and found it weak. She had no idea what she was doing, but she thought that the trauma was causing her to develop new abilities, and she had nowhere else to turn. She took a deep breath in, then forced the energy out of her hands, kick-starting Emma’s heart into a regular pace again. The thief’s chest lurched underneath her touch, and Regina gasped as the energy left her and passed into Emma, suddenly more exhausted and limp than she had felt in a long time.

 

She heard Emma drag air into her lungs, the heat of Regina’s magic passing into her chest. Regina saw her eyes flutter, but not open. Her head spun, and she lay on the ground beside Emma, drained and dizzy in a way that was becoming worryingly familiar. She saw Emma’s chest rising and falling at a more reassuring rate, and felt her own heart slow.

 

The last thought she had before she fell unconscious was that she was more powerful than she had ever imagined.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

When she woke, it was dark, and she was disorientated. Her mouth was dry, her ears were ringing, and she had to take a few minutes before she could even think about moving. She looked across at Emma, and when she could move, scooted forwards to check if she was still breathing, berating herself for leaving the two of them unprotected when Emma was on the brink of death. The blonde’s breath came out slowly, but firmly. She had gained some colour, but showed no sign that she had stirred when Regina had been out, or that she would stir any time soon.

 

Regina set about making a fire, before realising what was causing the accumulation of flies in the clearing, and the horrid smell. The place was covered in body parts; not an ideal location for someone to heal a severe wound without it getting infected. Besides, the smell was bound to attract predators or scavengers. She remembered the horses by the river, only a few yards away. Her stomach complained, and she ate a small portion of the food she had broken up for Emma, gathering her strength.

 

Carrying Emma out of the clearing was more difficult than she had thought it would be. The thief was mostly muscle, and was a complete dead weight at that point, meaning Regina could carry her for a few paces, before having to slump over and put her down. She ended up carefully dragging her the last few feet.

 

The horses stirred at their presence, but went back to grazing. The river was not particularly wide and the current not particularly strong, but the water looked thick and black in the night, like tar, and Regina made sure Emma was a safe distance away from its edge. She lit a fire with whatever wood she could find in the near area, and covered Emma up with both blankets in their satchel, which she pulled from the saddlebag of the guard who had taken it off them. She then washed herself in the river, wiping blood off her face and out of her hair, wringing out her dress and leaving it to dry by the fire while she sat in her petticoats and the cloak the Merry Men had given them.

 

She ate no more, despite her hunger. Emma would need it more than her. She sat for hours, watching the thief through the flames of the fire between them. She glanced over to the horses.

 

“I could just leave you here.” She thought aloud. “I could leave you to die and take a horse and ride as far away as possible. I could take all the supplies and finally start the new life I have been dreaming of, and I wouldn’t have to worry about being killed by this man you want me to fight. I could finally be completely free.”

 

She laughed to herself, and it was self-deprecating and disbelieving. She sighed, and looked over at Emma, and the ironic smile slid off her face.

 

“I would’ve done that two weeks ago. I wouldn’t have even thought about it.”

 

Crushing silence followed, and Emma showed no signs of moving.

 

“I’m not naïve, Emma. Maybe I am by your terms, but not generally. I’ve killed before. I’ve planned on killing my husband, and I would have if it were at all possible. The Dark One has turned _me_ dark. I was going to be the sole ruler once I got rid of the King. I wouldn’t have been just, or caring, I would’ve wanted to destroy Snow White, completely. I would’ve killed any member of her adoring public who stood by her, and there would have been a lot. Bloodshed no longer bothers me. I just murdered six people and I don’t feel a twinge of regret, and they can’t all have been evil to the core. Not like me. I would have been Queen, Emma. Not the King’s Queen, my own Queen. They would have called me The Evil Queen.”

 

She swallowed hard and continued to stare at the thief with a forlorn, contemplative expression. The night got darker, colder, and she got more frustrated.

 

“I am a coward. I ran away. I ran away from all of that. It doesn’t stop it being true, though, I’m twisted in more ways than you can imagine. I wouldn’t put it past me to leave you here, even after everything you’ve done for me.”

 

With her colour back, Emma looked peaceful now, expression relaxed, lips parted slightly.

 

“But I can’t. I’m not going to. I – I think…I think I’m weaker than I thought, weaker than The Dark One thinks I am, and that is pretty weak. I was looking for an escape. I was looking for an ally. I never signed up for a friend…”

 

She tilted her head on one side, continuing to observe the blonde breathing softly. Smoke from the fire stung her eyes slightly.

 

“I’ve never really had friends, unsurprisingly. I had my first love, my _true_ love, but he was taken from me. Since then, there’s been no one. Then again, how was I supposed to hate you? You’re about as disagreeable as me, of course the bickering was going to lead to respect. And I _do_ respect you, Emma, but I’m too proud to tell you when you can hear me.”

 

She sighed, and the river moved on behind her. A rising wind made the tree branches overhead rattle together.

 

“Thank you,” She said, voice wavering as the words caught in her throat. “Thank you for… _everything_. You’re irritating, and often hurtful and rude, but you’ve got me this far, and in protecting me, you nearly _died_. I’m worried that this is the only time I will say it. I’m worried that if you die, I will be upset. I’m worried that, when this is all over, I might not _want_ to part ways.”

 

Her voice faded away, and she leant back on her hands, staring into space for a few minutes, dwelling on this revelation. Then, Emma’s mouth opened, and she let out a quiet groan of pain, moving her head slightly. Regina sighed in relief, and moved forward to her side.

 

“Emma?” She lay a hand on Emma’s arm, and tilted her head up towards her. Emma mumbled quietly, eyes fluttering, then opening for a second, before dropping shut again. This happened a few times before they stayed open, blurry and unfocused, but seeing none the less.

 

“Emma? Can you hear me?”

 

Emma made a sound, her voice cracked and dry. Regina brought a flask of water near, and raised her head to help her take a few sips.

 

“W – Wha – what…happened…?” Emma managed.

 

“It’s ok, we’re safe. We’ve escaped. You’re going to be fine.” Her heart was racing with relief.

 

Emma still looked confused, but Regina had to focus on other things.

 

“You’ve got to eat, Emma. You almost died. You’ll be fine now, I’ve patched you up. Come on…”

 

She carefully fed Emma tiny pieces of bread, slowly so that she wouldn’t throw them up again. Once she’d finished, she started on the fruit, and by then, her voice had returned somewhat.

 

“Regina…what happened…the men…”

 

“Shh, don’t strain yourself.” Regina felt her forehead, but she didn’t seem unusually hot, implying that any infection hadn’t rendered her ill.

 

“I used magic. I don’t know how, but they were all closing in on us and it just sort of…happened. They’re dead, all of them, very much so. I blew them to pieces, I didn’t know I was capable of that, but it happened. We’re safe, I promise.”

 

Emma looked at her with something worryingly close to admiration. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

 

“Safe. Good…”

 

Regina smiled. “Yes. We’re safe, and you’re going to be fine, we both are. We can’t move until you’re healed, but we can take some horses, and the guards had supplies. We’re going to be ok. Now, you’ve got to rest.”

 

Emma nodded dozily, and relaxed on the ground again, eyes already drooping shut. Before she drifted off, she raised her hand feebly and laid it over Regina’s. The brunette swallowed and held it for a moment, before moving away to check the bandage, and seeing everything in order, curled up near to Emma in front of the fire, and let exhaustion take over.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those asking if I can post all the chapters at once, I'm not going to, because it means I have a chance to re-edit and stuff. If you are really that desperate to read the rest of it right now (which is quite flattering), the completed work is posted on ff.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10147800/1/The-Only-Way 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

When Regina awoke, it was day.

 

Her hair and face were damp with dew that had settled as the warm night had gotten suddenly colder. The fire had burnt down completely, the horses were dozing upright, and the river seemed suddenly a lot less frightening.

 

The usual stiffness dissipated from her limbs as she moved, checking on Emma as she slept on. She was breathing normally, and she had regained her normal colour. Regina felt worried tension ease from her shoulders.

 

The cry of birds drew her head upwards, the sky pink from the stain of sunrise, and she caught sight of the sheer number of birds circling the trees of the forest, just a short distance from their camp. She watched as one by one, they would swoop beneath the canopy and not re-emerge, soon joined by others. Her stomach churned at the thought; she imagined what was left of the Royal Guard being torn to pieces between the scavengers, each flitting away with a chunk of flesh in its beak.

 

The birds would attract bigger predators, she knew. They would have to move.

 

She gently nudged Emma awake. The blonde looked momentarily confused and sluggish, but conscious nonetheless.

 

“Emma?” She probed softly. “Do you remember what happened?”

 

The thief managed a nod. “I was stabbed in the leg, I haven’t been hit on the head.” She said, then her eyes seemed to focus more. “But it looks like _you_ have…” Her voice was cracked and dry.

 

Regina raised a hand to the side of her head. The throbbing had blended into the background, what with all the other pain wracking her body at that point, but she felt a lump from the blow, undoubtedly a bruise, and her hand came away sticky with what blood had not been washed off the night before.

 

“Don’t worry about me. I feel fine. How do _you_ feel?”

 

“Been better.” She said, and the tone was rewardingly light. “Still a little dizzy, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it did.” She glanced down at her leg.

 

“Yes, I found some medical supplies. The alcohol helped, I think, and if there is an infection, it hasn’t shown yet. I stitched it as best I could.”

 

She moved to check the wound, while Emma gave her a strange, slightly distant look, which she didn’t see.

 

Regina let out a flutter of disbelieving laughter. “Wow, it’s healing better than I thought. It looks painful, but not septic, and the stitches are indeed healing. Maybe I don’t give my medical skills enough credit.”

 

“Yeah yeah, don’t get too arrogant, I nearly died.”

 

Regina smirked. “That was your fault. You’re too impulsive.”

 

“ _I’m_ too impulsive? You blew six guys to bits on impulse!”

 

The jab was vaguely reminiscent of past arguments, but the relief of survival ran thick in her veins, and so she simply shook her head and smirked wider.

 

“Now _that’s_ something I can’t believe I had in me.”

 

Emma thought for a moment. “You brought me back, didn’t you?”

 

Regina met her gaze, and narrowed her eyes.

 

“I didn’t _bring you back_. That’s impossible. You didn’t die. You got close, but you didn’t.”

 

“For a while, all I could feel was my pulse in my head. That was all I was aware of, and I could feel it slowing. I could feel the life draining out of me, then suddenly there was this strange warmth and I could breath again. I may not be well acquainted with it, but I know magic when I feel it.”

 

Regina looked at her for a moment, then back down to the wound she was re-bandaging.

 

“I got your heart going again. Just a shock to get it regular.”

 

Emma’s stunned look was muted slightly to save what little of her dignity remained.

 

“Regina…that’s _incredible._ You literally gave me life again…”

 

Regina shook her head. “It was nothing as grand as that…”

 

“Then tell me why my wound looks better after it being open and bleeding in a muddy forest for a day.”

 

Regina met her eyes again. “Are you suggesting --?”

 

“Your healing abilities are impressive, yes.”

 

Emma finished, looking out at the river.

 

‘You’re getting more powerful…” She mumbled, more to herself than to Regina.

 

“It’s times of crisis, it’s instinctual. That’s why it was so powerful when…”

 

Emma nodded. Regina’s hand stilled against her thigh, and she looked at it as though it might burst into flames there and then. Their gazes held for a moment, each considering different things that were more similar than they initially appeared, before Regina removed her hand.

 

“Can you move? We have to go.” She indicated upwards and Emma followed her finger. Birds continued to swarm overhead. “They’re here for what’s left of the soldiers. They’re just scavengers, obviously, but I thought they might attract bigger threats…”

 

Emma took a deep breath in, then nodded grimly.

 

“I had better try.” She shifted into a sitting position, wincing slightly at the movement.

 

“Eat first.” Regina ordered, offering her what was left of the food. Emma insisted she ate something, but the brunette took minimal portions.

 

Having washed all bloodstained clothes in the river, and slipped back into her dress, Regina helped Emma struggling into a standing position. The thief got considerably paler, but hobbled a few steps.

 

“You’re going to need to take a horse…” Said Regina, setting her back down.

 

Emma shook her head. “Too conspicuous. We’ll just attract attention.”

 

“You can’t walk, and we can’t stay here.”

 

Emma looked at the accumulated horses in defeat.

 

Regina sighed, hands on hips. “How much further is this monster’s castle?”

 

Emma thought for a minute. “A week’s journeying. Not too far now. North from here.” She pointed off into the trees in a direction Regina assumed was north.

 

Regina bit her lips and glanced around, as if the answer would just appear.

 

“You might not be strong enough by then.”

 

“We can’t take any more unnecessary detours into towns. It’s too risky.”

 

Clearly at an impasse, the two fell silent.

 

Emma’s eyes lit up suddenly. “I know where we can go!” She fell silent again, as she began making mental calculations as to their exact location.

 

Regina waited, before prompting her. “Go on then; where?”

 

“A lord. He owes me a favour. I saved him from an ambush in the forest once when he was passing through. Of course, like with you, I intended to keep everything for myself, but when more guards appeared, I quickly changed sides. He’s in my debt. God, I haven’t thought about it in ages! Well, I assumed because he lives so far away, I’d never need anything from him, and he’s likely forgotten. But we must be close to the border now, and his residence is just on the other side. I’ve just got to talk my when in, as with you here it’s unlikely he’ll want to risk war just to harbour some fugitives. But I don’t think we have another choice…”

 

Regina thought about what she’s just heard. It all seemed far too convenient…

 

“Emma, I don’t know…maybe we shouldn’t risk something that could turn against us so quickly…”

 

“There’s nowhere else we can go. We can’t stay out here; we’re sitting ducks with me completely useless. We can’t hope to fight the battle to come we me injured either. It’s the best chance we’ve got.”

 

Regina stared at her, lost in thought.

 

“I don’t like it.” She shook her head. “It sounds like walking into a trap.”

 

“He is a good lord; fierce, but good. I believe he will repay his debts. I have to believe.”

 

Regina turned from her to look out across the river. A morning mist crept menacingly along the landscape. Good, she thought, it would cover their tracks more effectively than rain.

 

The glanced over her shoulder at the thief, sitting up as straight as she was able to, defiant and determined and ready for action, as always.

 

“Well…it seems we truly have no choice.” She sighed. “How far is it from here? Do you know?”

 

Emma shifted, wincing slightly once more. She spent a moment calculating, gazing around at the landscape, then tilting her head up to the sky.

 

“I cannot be exactly sure, but I would say a days’ travelling, perhaps less. I only suggest it because we are conveniently close, if my memory serves me well.”

 

Regina sighed again, and her shoulders relaxed in defeat. “Then I suppose we should get going, if you know the way. The forest is still crawling with Royal Guard. The last thing we want is another unpleasant encounter.”

 

“ _’Unpleasant_ ’? That’s putting it lightly…” muttered Emma.

 

“You didn’t have to wash the guts out of your own hair!”

 

“Didn’t I? That’s surprising!” Emma shot back, effortlessly sarcastic.

 

“I had to do it for both of us. Speaking of which, your clothes need washing before we leave. The river will have to do.” Regina indicated towards the water, icy in the morning, and Emma shivered on reflex.

 

“As much as I like being clean, I like being alive more. I’m not getting frostbite because of a little blood.”

 

“’A little’?” Regina gave a pointed look at her trousers, now more crimson than their original brown-green colour.

 

Emma, as if she had just noticed this, wrinkled her nose and shifted in discomfort.

 

“You may have a point, princess. Fine. I’ll risk my extremities so I don’t smell of the inside of men for the next two days.”

 

Regina allowed herself a small, triumphant smile. The banter was back; that was a good sign.

 

Emma was able to move, if a little uncertainly. Regina was worried that her strength would suddenly desert her, since a lot of it was brought on by magic, but she seemed to be recovering at a conveniently rapid speed. When Regina helped her to her feet, the colour drained from her cheeks, but she kept her balance, and the brunette helped her over to the rocky edge of the river. The water had retreated slightly due to the warm weather, and was moving slowly enough to wade into without the danger of being swept away.

 

“I can bathe on my own, princess.”

 

Regina had begun tugging Emma’s jacket off, and at the comment didn’t even falter.

 

“If you faint, I won’t have noticed before you’re half way down this river with the current.”

 

“I’m not going to faint. I feel a lot better now I’m fed. Leave me this dignity.”

 

Regina pulled the garment off the thief, whose well-toned arms flexed in a way that was both defensive and self-conscious, and it made Regina halt. Maybe they weren’t ready for this, especially after what had…transpired between them.

 

“Ok. I’m not looking.”

 

She turned around and sat on the boulder they had been leaning against, pointedly looking the other way.

 

“Is that it?”

 

“I’m not leaving either. I’m serious, it could be very dangerous. Let me know if you’re being dragged downriver, won’t you?”

 

Emma scowled, but continued pulling blood-drenched clothes off herself. Regina sighed heavily and crossed her arms over her chest, watching more and more birds flock into the trees over the clearing. If she had noticed, surely wolves and other such creatures would have as well?

 

After several minutes of awkward silence broken only by regular splashing, Emma called out.

 

“Could I have the cloak? My clothes are going to need to dry.”

 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Said Regina, losing all eloquence when presented with such a bizarre situation. She was almost getting use to the unpredictability of life as an outlaw.

 

She averted her eyes for as much of the task as she could, but had to make sure she didn’t fall into the river as she returned to the blonde’s side with the garment. She had to fight surprisingly hard to keep her eyes elsewhere, and mostly succeeded, but nevertheless was distracted momentarily by the flash of pale, surprisingly smooth skin of her toned back, broken only by a couple of small, fading scars. It was an oddly feminine image, like the elegant statue in the centre of the fountain in her private garden, a word she would never normally associate with Emma, and for that reason she didn’t think she would be forgetting the sight any time soon.

 

Once more decent, Emma returned to the fire, hobbling slightly but if she was in massive amounts of pain, she was very good at hiding it. Regina helped her pack their things.

 

“Are you certain you know where this place is?”

 

“I should after we get back into more familiar territory. I usually end up relying on my navigational skills and they haven’t failed me yet.”

 

“And you’re sure it’s safe?”

 

Emma sighed, exasperated, and turned on Regina. “No, princess, I’m not, but it’s much safer than out here. The place is crawling with Royal Guard, as we experienced. I trust this man, well, to an extent, and he’s our only hope now. I’m the first to insist that I’m fine, but I know that if I strain this too much, it could re-open or get infected, and I have no intention of dying from a silly little knife wound. So, we’re going to have to take a chance.”

 

Regina sighed and nodded, approaching the horses to select the two tamest. She had abundant experience in the area, of course, but the last thing they wanted was temperamental beasts to throw them into the dirt.

 

When the sun had dried off Emma’s clothes sufficiently and they had chewed on some salted meat the guards had been carrying, they agreed on respective horses and swung themselves up into the saddles. The first thing Regina did was lean down and remove the spurs from the stirrups. Emma looked at her sideways.

 

“Why are you doing that?”

 

Regina looked like she had been caught in the middle of indulging in an embarrassing habit. She shrugged slightly.

 

“I’ve…um…I’ve never liked them. They’re unnecessarily cruel in my opinion. Horses obey just fine without a spike in their flank, in fact better, because they don’t spook every time you urge them onward.”

 

Emma frowned slightly. She really hadn’t taken Regina for the sentimental type. Sure, she wasn’t particularly sadistic, but she was generally cold and hard when it came to practicalities. She was honestly the last person Emma expected to be concerned about horses experiencing a bit of pain. However, she didn’t question it, and bent at the waist to do the same to her own stirrups.

 

They had removed the tack from the other horses and now urged them off into the forest, free from the restraints of the Guard’s signature leather binds. Emma, not too use to horse riding, led the way rather unsteadily, walking the creature slowly through the trees, ears pricked, leg aching still. Regina started behind her, but soon rode beside her, keeping her eyes fixed on the blonde in case she should fall, as Emma found the course she was looking for and steered the pair of them East, towards the lord’s castle.


	30. Chapter 30

“Are you sure this is the right direction?”

 

“Always the voice of doubt. Have I ever gotten us lost before?”

 

“There’s a first time for everything.”

 

Silence. An exasperated sigh followed.

 

“Yes, this is the right direction. Trust me, I recognise the area now.”

 

“Well you’re falling behind…”

 

Regina glanced over her shoulder. Emma sat stiffly atop her horse, expression uncomfortable and moving considerably slower than Regina would have liked.

 

“I did nearly _die_ yesterday…”

 

“You were surprisingly agile this morning. You’re healing well and besides, you aren’t moving your injured leg.”

 

“It still aches…”

 

Regina gave her a confused look through narrowed eyes, then a smirk crept across her face, disbelief clouding her amused expression.

 

“You don’t like riding, do you?”

 

Emma looked as though she would deny it, then swallowed and straightened her back in an attempt at dignity.

 

“I’m not particularly fond of putting my welfare in the hands of an unpredictable animal, no.”

 

Regina barely fought back laughter. “The Great Emma Swan, Outlaw Extraordinaire, Terroriser of the Rich, scared of horses?!” She teased, incredulous.

 

Emma pursed her lips and glared ahead at the Queen. “I’m not used to travelling this way. It’s always wise to be cautious; that’s how I’m still alive, princess.”

 

Regina smirked, something wicked glittered in dark eyes, like she’d unlocked something precious; a method with which to tease Emma, no doubt. She turned back around and said no more.

 

However, after a good few hours of slow progress and Emma becoming increasingly distressed whenever her horse spooked at something, Regina addressed her again.

 

“Honestly, I thought you would be more adaptable.”

 

“I’m doing ok!” Insisted Emma, gripping the reins so tightly her knuckles turned white.

 

“We’ll never make it before sundown at this rate.” Sighed Regina.

 

A few moments of contemplation later had her stopping her horse and turning back to a still slightly struggling Emma.

 

“What is it? Come on, keep going! If I make this thing stop I don’t think it’ll start again…”

 

Regina sighed once more. “Get off it. I’m serious, we’re making too slow progress. Ride with me, it’ll be quicker and I know how to control a horse.”

 

Emma looked shocked, borderline offended at the suggestion.

 

“Absolutely not. I’m supposed to be protecting _you_ , not the other way around. I’m fine, I’m just…adjusting. I don’t need _you_ to look after me like I’m a child, thank you very much.”

 

Regina rolled her eyes. “Abandon your pride for once. I know you cling to it only when it suits you, so for practicality’s sake, just do what I say now.”

 

As had become necessary between them at this point, there was a few minutes of staring, pushing the other to back down, before one conceded at last.

 

Emma swung herself out of the saddle and onto shaking legs, sucking in a harsh breath at the shock sent up her injured thigh.

 

“Thank you.” Regina breathed.

 

Emma begrudgingly removed the contents of the saddle bags and managed to crush it into the other horse’s. She glared up at a triumphant Regina as she removed the saddle, numbner and bridle from her own horse, then stood awkwardly beside it, looking at Regina in a question of what to do next. Regina rolled her eyes, urged her own horse closer to the other, and hit it on the flank. Emma flinched and jumped back as the creature suddenly took off into the forest. Regina chuckled under her breath as the thief fought to regain her stone cold composure.

 

“Come on then, up you get. Let’s get this over with.”

 

Emma approached reluctantly; limping still, but on the tips of her toes, ready to run if the remaining horse showed any distasteful signs. When she was close, Regina extended a hand, looking equally hesitant now. Emma looked at the offered limb for a moment, before sighing and taking it, heaving herself into the saddle in front of Regina, shifting her weight off her leg.

 

Regina’s pulse leapt into her throat. The situation was far from heated, but neither had allowed themselves to be this close to the other since the mistake made outside the Merry Men’s camp, and there was still an awkwardness and tension there. Regina hesitated slightly when she reached round Emma to grasp the reins again, swallowing hard as the thief’s back pressed against her chest. This might not have been such a good idea after all…

 

To Emma, it felt like a distressing shift of authority. She was the helpless and inexperienced one here; the very thing she had revelled in teasing Regina about since they first met. Here, she was at the Queen’s mercy, sitting atop a beast she didn’t trust in the protective hold of a woman that she was perhaps starting to trust. Trust was a dangerous thing, and due to her situation, she was probably safer with the horse; at least she expected it to turn against her.

 

Regina started the horse off at a slow pace, making sure to keep the ride as steady as possible. Emma was tense in front of her; she hated feeling helpless, that Regina knew. Emma knew she was being pandered to, tiptoed around, and she hated it. To show her companion that she didn’t consider her akin to a child, Regina urged the horse on quicker, and responded automatically by tightening her grip round Emma’s sides.

 

The journey was tense, and though Emma felt much more relaxed than on her own horse, she was very conscious of her positioning. The ample silence gave her time to pinpoint every inch of her that came into contact with Regina, right down to her calf brushing Regina’s shin through her skirts. They would certainly make an absurd sight, she thought to herself. Although, she decided to worry more about _who_ might see them, than what they would think of two women riding the same horse, both looking decidedly uncomfortable.

 

“You like horses.” Emma ventured.

 

“I love them.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because they are elegant and powerful and liberating.”

 

“They’re dangerous.”

 

“That too.”

 

Emma’s mouth curved into a smirk Regina couldn’t see as she considered this response.

 

“I’m guessing you had many in your childhood. You’ve mentioned them before.”

 

“Amongst etiquette lessons, sessions with tutors and being presented to a whole host of uptight bigots, it was the only part of my childhood I actually enjoyed.”

 

“Sounds like a riot.”

 

Regina hummed in sarcastic agreement.

 

“Where did you grow up?”

 

Emma had certainly not been expecting such a question and was momentarily taken aback.

 

“Um…well I – I never knew my parents and I grew up in an orphanage in the valley, so…”

 

Regina tensed against her back.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think –“

 

Emma laughed. “Unlike you to apologise, princess. Nah, no need to worry, it wasn’t so bad. It was cold and dirty and often crowded, but it sure wasn’t lonely. Taught me how to fend for myself as well.”

 

“And now you’re a thief…”

 

“The best thief in the Enchanted Forest.” She declared proudly.

 

She couldn’t see the brunette, but she guessed she was rolling her eyes.

 

“And Hook helped you?”

 

“Yeah, offered me a place on his crew for a few years.”

 

“So he’s a lot older than you?”

 

Emma laughed. “A lot older than most people, I reckon. Not sure how old exactly, but that’s what jaunts to Neverland do to you. He may well live forever.”

 

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

 

Emma laughed before she could stop herself.

 

“He’s less obnoxious once you get to know him.”

 

“Really?”

 

“…No.”

 

“Well spare me the ordeal then.”

 

Emma smiled, and thought briefly of Hook and his reduced crew and smoking ship. She had hardly spared him a thought since they’d left the Jolly Roger.

 

“Aha! See! I told you I knew where I was going.”

 

Regina slowed the horse and followed where Emma was indicating, although it would be difficult to miss. A huge hill rose from the land in front of them, a road winding up the side of it and through wrought iron gates, beyond a large wall. The castle stood at the very top, compact and spiked, like it had been pushed together, with massively tall spires spearing up into the clouds. Though nowhere near as large as Regina’s own, it still made quite an impressive sight.

 

“Sir Maurice resides there. Let’s hope he’s still living, otherwise we will never be given sanctuary.”

 

Regina swallowed as she looked up at the building. It was intimidating to say the least, and riding up to its gate, two women on one horse, seemed like a stupid idea. Still, Emma had yet to be wrong when trusting her instinct, and as she had rightly pointed out, they had little other choice.

 

The ride up to the castle gate was long and rocky, the horse loosing its footing more than once and causing Emma to unconsciously press back into Regina as the Queen tightened her grip on the reins. When they were half way up the road, Regina gasped as a thought hit her.

 

“What is it?” Asked Emma, twisting around to try and see her.

 

“What if he knows me? What is he returns me to my husband? What if he turns us both in? As a lord he is likely to know what I look like, I may have even met him at an event before. This was a terrible idea…”

 

“Calm down.” Hissed Emma. “You don’t exactly _look_ like a queen right now, and if he does recognise you, then I believe he will _not_ turn us over. There are few good people left in this world, but he has been civil and thankful towards me despite my background, simply for not killing him and taking his gold when I had the chance. He owes me, Regina, and that involves keeping your location a secret as well. He won’t betray us if we ask him not to, his honour would not allow it.”

 

“I’ve learnt not to trust a man’s honour. Its definitions can vary greatly in different situations.”

 

Emma stopped to think. “Ok, I have an idea. When we get closer to the castle, you get off the horse and hide. Over _there_.” She pointed to the thick trees bordering the tall wall. “I will ask for an audience with the lord, then if I decide he can be trusted, if he agrees to repay my debt, then I will come and collect you. If not, I shall leave and pick you up on the way.”

 

“You want me to _hide in the woods_ _while you sort it out_?” Regina asked, evidently irate.

 

“It’s our best option, princess. I shall judge his character, then reveal your identity if I think it safe.”

 

Regina, displeased, said nothing, but kicked the horse onward nevertheless. Once they were closer to the castle, Regina slid out of the saddle and stood for a minute looking up at Emma.

 

“You’ll be alright with the horse?”

 

Emma took the reins and gritted her teeth in determination. “Yes. Of course. I shall have to be.” She stared down at the animal with challenge in her eyes. Regina fought back a smile.

 

“Please don’t leave me out here for too long.”

 

“I’ll make sure not to.”

 

“And please don’t get killed.”

 

“That’s unlikely.”

 

“Like you said, he may not be alive. And his son may be less fair.”

 

“No, I mean it would be unlikely that they would _manage_ to kill me.”

 

Regina frowned, a smirk creeping onto her face. “That arrogance will get you killed some day.”

 

Emma grinned back cockily. “It’s served me well so far, princess. Now stay hidden, I’ll be back soon, with or without an escort.”

 

Regina watched her steady herself atop the horse then trot off towards the gate with an uncomfortable posture, but fiery determination nonetheless. She sighed. She was tired. Moving around and magic and emotions took it out of her. She turned and made her way over to the wood, where she seated herself behind a tree on the edge, leaning against its trunk, and waited for Emma’s return.


	31. Chapter 31

“Halt. State your name and intent.”

 

Emma pulled the beast to a halt, shifting uncomfortably with the horse that she was pretty certain could sense her trepidation.

 

“I seek audience with the lord of the land.”

 

The guardsman, perched atop the wall, laughed down at her. She saw the yellow crest of the lord’s house on the breastplate of his armour.

 

“Who are you? We don’t just let anyone in who demands to talk to Lord Maurice.”

 

Emma bit her lip hard, thinking of Regina crouched in the wood and her son in a dungeon and the weariness in her bones and ache in her wound. At least she knew the lord was still living.

 

“Send word to Lord Maurice. Tell him one he owes a life debt to waits at his gate.”

 

“The lord is much too busy for your petty whims.” He spat down.

 

“I am not leaving until word is sent and I am seen. If the lord chooses to dismiss me, so be it. I shall leave without a word. But only then.” She shouted back up, her mask of cold determination was back on.

 

The guardsman looked decidedly aggravated, but saw he couldn’t shoot her with an arrow or have her cut down for simply requesting entrance. Most of Lord Maurice’s land spread out in the other direction, and the castle was surrounded only by a small town. Security had always been a high priority, Emma knew, but surely he could not deny a single girl entrance?

 

He disappeared from his perch, and Emma was about to call out again, more irate this time, but a great groan sounded and the wooden gates swung open a fraction, the gap wide enough to slip in through while amount. A gust of hot air hit her, like riding into a box, despite there being no roof over the town. There were more people than she had expected, piled into houses and shoving through the streets. Then again, the last time she had been near here, the Ogrewars had been picking towns off one by one. In fact, she’d heard that they very nearly claimed Lord Maurice’s land, but they were saved at the last minute by a stranger with great abilities; a mystery Emma had never really found the time to ponder over.

 

She was met by two guards, who rode her up the main street, twisting and dirty, up to the castle. A man with one arm and no legs looked up in wonder at a woman who gave him a bowl of broth, tears filling rheumy eyes. A cat of a strange blue-silver colour, the likes of which Emma had never seen before, darted out in front of the party, then darted up a house’s drainpipe and slinked along the adjoining roof with enviable elegance. The guard with a thick blonde moustache gave a hard look at a scantily-clad woman who leant against the doorway of a tavern and gave him a suggestive look from under thick, sooty eyelashes. Emma drank in the foreign scene eagerly. She’d always been an explorer.

 

She dismounted at the castle door, which swung open to admit her, and she limped cautiously into the cavernous entrance hall. Others were there too, evidently intending to see their lord about problems they were having. She’d be here all day if she waited in line. She briefly considered fighting her way to the lord, before realising what a stupid idea that was.

 

“What’s your name, girl?”

 

Emma had not been called a girl in some considerable time. She bristled slightly. She would never gain attention unless she let these men know she was worthy of it.

 

“Emma Swan, of the Enchanted Forest. Tell your lordship that, and if he doesn’t remember, perhaps you’d be so kind as to remind him of the debt he owes me.” She said this courteously, but the sarcastic undertones were glaringly apparent.

 

The guardsmen exchanged a look. They knew who she was. Of course they did, she’d probably robbed half of their town at some point or another, possibly the two of them personally.

 

Suddenly, they had hold of an arm each and their grip was painful due to the hard leather of their gloves. Emma had anticipated such a move. Her reputation meant they would instantly try and arrest her. Hopefully they’d be intelligent enough to take her to the lord, though.

 

“Swan. I thought I recognised you.” _Liar_ , Emma thought, _so few people get a good look at my face and live to spread the story_.

 

“We _shall_ take you to his lordship, but not for whatever manipulation you intended. He will hear of this lie you tell of unpaid debts. I suspect you will be executed on the morrow.”

 

She was dragged unceremoniously up several exhausting flights of huge stairs, injury complaining all the way, then pushed up some claustrophobically small ones. What the castle lacked in breadth it made up for in height, and she felt every inch of upwards stretching stone as she climbed for what felt like hours.

 

At last, they forced her along a lofty corridor and through a pair of oak double doors, nodding to a pair of guards who stood outside before entering. The room had huge windows, letting in more light than Emma thought possible for a room. They were clear glass, stretching almost from the floor to the vaulted ceiling. The room was predominantly blue and yellow; blue for the sky that the windows blended into, yellow the lord’s colour.

 

Speaking of which, he sat in a high-backed chair at the head of a huge table, a miniature landscape of what Emma recognised as the kingdom replicated across its surface. He was indeed the same lord Emma had spared and in fact saved all those years ago. He looked up at her through milky eyes, sunken with age. His skin had sagged with the years, hair thinned and whitened, mouth drooping slightly, although it seemed that more than the years have wearied him. He looked like a man who had not smiled in a long time, and had not had reason to.

 

“What is this?” He asked, voice still deep and commanding, accent foreign, Emma still didn’t know from where it originated.

 

“Emma Swan, my lord.” The guard said proudly. “She approached the gates, the silly girl. Demanded an audience, she did my lord, told us her name and everything. I reckon she didn’t think we’d know who she was.”

 

Lord Maurice squinted his aged eyes as he scrutinised her face, and she begged it was not changed so much so he wouldn’t recognise her. Then again, it was difficult to forget the face you thought would be the last you ever saw.

 

He leant back in his chair after his observation, and laughed, the sound rumbling round the large chamber.

 

“Emma Swan would never give her name if she did not think it would benefit her more than endanger her.”

 

The guards exchanged a look. Emma wondered if they came into existence in pairs, if they were entirely unable to function successfully on their own.

 

“So...you don’t think this is Emma Swan, my lord?”

 

Lord Maurice heaved himself out of the chair and made his way slowly over to the trio by the door. He walked as one would expect a man of his large gait to walk; slowly but subtly powerfully. Emma’s heart began to race. He knew of the crimes she was accused of. Perhaps he would care nought for a half-baked promise made years ago. Maybe he would kill her instead and rid the neighbouring forests of a threat.

 

“No…I _know_ this is Emma Swan.”

 

Her pulse increased tenfold. This was it; life or death. He recognised her, her life and indeed Regina’s were at the mercy of his honour. The guards regained their triumph.

 

“Then she is not as clever as they say.” The guard said.

 

The lord laughed again and shook his head. ”Of course she is. Did you not listen to what I just said? She was right to give her name. She never would have been brought before me if she had not.”

 

He looked into her eyes, calculating. She kept her face stoic, not showing fear or trepidation or anything that could sway his decision. _Remember the attack, my lord, remember how grateful you were when I gave you back your life…_

“And it’s a good thing she did. Greetings, Miss Swan. It’s been rather a long time.”

 

She let a subtle smirk turning up the corner of her mouth be the only sign of her innate relief.

 

“Indeed, my lord. So many years in fact I was worried the time had changed me.”

 

“They certainly have. You’re not a bit the skinny whip of a thing that climbed through the trees like a squirrel. The years have been as kind to your appearance as they have been wretched to mine.” He was gracious, she remembered, a well-spoken man, but not to be taken lightly.

 

“My climbing abilities have not waned, I assure you.” When had she started talking like _that_?! Like…well…Regina?

 

He laughed again. “I’m glad to hear it. Please, take a seat. I suspect you bring something to discuss.”

 

He returned to his seat, the servants dragging a less ornate, but equally uncomfortable-looking to his side for her. They then departed, in a pair as the guards had been, after Lord Maurice ordered some drink be brought for his guest. ‘ _Guest’_ , Emma thought, _better than ‘prisoner’._

“Now, Miss Swan, I presume you need something from me?”

 

Straight to the point, as Emma liked things.

 

“Yes, my lord, I’m afraid I must ask a favour of you.”

 

“And you may. To this day I have not forgotten the girl who saved me. You were young then, no more than sixteen I would say.”

 

Emma tried to think how old she must have been, but when you have no way but the sun to mark the passing of days, age is something not really worth documenting.

 

“Well I thought you were unlikely to, which is why I am here. I don’t like relying on the goodness of others when I can help it, it’s very unreliable.”

 

“So it is. Therefore I take it is a serious matter. State it. I owe you my life, and will fulfil your request to the best of my capability.”

 

Emma shifted on the hard wood and licked her lips, her wound throbbing beneath bandages that would no doubt soon need changing. The sun was setting, Regina would be tired and hungry by now, but at least the season meant she would not be cold.

 

“I need a respite, my lord. I need shelter and food and lodgings, only for a short time. I’m afraid I’m injured. I have a mission to complete but cannot do so with a wound like this, and I need it to heal properly and somewhere to stay in the meantime. That is why I have come to you, and I swear I will stay no longer than necessary. We are talking of a matter of days.”

 

Lord Maurice heard this with a concerned line deepening in his forehead.

 

“You are hurt?”

 

“Yes, my lord.” She felt both confused and a little irate that it was the first thing he thought to draw upon from her request.

 

“I saw you limping. Your leg, I presume?”

 

“Yes, my lord.”

 

He leant back into the chair that now appeared to swallow him. She wondered how old he was, older than she had initially anticipated, she believed.

 

“When I give my word I keep it.” He said. “You shall remain here, as my guest, for as long as you see fit. You shall receive the finest treatment, and I will make sure you are as comfortable as possible. It is the least I can do. I honestly expected a request more difficultly fulfilled.”

 

This was it. She would have to be honest. Baring this secret, however, could spell out her death. She tried to hide the way she took a shuddering breath in and locked her jaw to give herself a firm expression.

 

“There is more, my lord.”

 

His eyes narrowed. She had his attention. “I suspected as much.”

 

 _Out with it, Swan_. “I have a travelling companion who will require equal refuge.”

 

He tilted his balding head back on his neck to get a better look at her.

 

“Harbouring them could be potentially dangerous for you.”

 

He pressed his thin, pale lips together. “Go on. Who is it?”

 

She swallowed in a way that was obviously nervous. _I hope you are as noble as I believe you to be._

“It is Queen Regina, wife of King Leopold, missing, considered kidnapped, and currently the most wanted woman in the kingdom, followed by me.”

 

Lord Maurice’s response was not drastic, but his previously placid expression turned into a grave one.

 

“Oh dear, Miss Swan. It seems your ask is bigger than I thought. I expected you wanted money, or men to fight, or land; something expensive but easy. What you ask now is treason. Harbouring the Queen without declaring her would not bode well for me should the King find out. In fact, it could result in a war that I could not win. No lord, no matter how large his army, can compete with the reigning king. I am dead if she is discovered here, you must understand? And not just the Queen, but also hiding her kidnapper _as well_?”

 

“You are misinformed, my lord. I am no kidnapper. The Queen is with me willingly. She has fled her husband. I am helping her escape. She is a fugitive as much as me.”

 

The old man processed this information, and clearly didn’t like what he had heard.

 

“It is still dangerous. The King is known as a good, kind man, but I know not what happens behind the walls of his palace. Either way, he is doing all in his power to return the Queen to his side.”

 

“I know. I know of the risks and I am so sorry for asking this huge favour of you, but I’ve nowhere else to turn, and both of us will be helpless out in the woods with increased search parties and my leg not yet healed. I beg you to consider, my lord.”

 

He looked at her so closely that she was half-convinced he was staring though her at something behind her. She barely dared to breath lest the movement might sway his decision.

 

“Dangerous or not, I still owe you a debt. It took a great deal of faith to come to me and reveal this information, and it shall be rewarded. I grant official sanctuary to you and the Queen for as long as it is needed, comfort, food and medical assistance included.” He didn’t say it, but she could hear it in his tone: _If you outstay your welcome, I might have to conserve the safety of my people and start talking…_

She sighed in relief anyway. Sanctuary. They had secured sanctuary. They were safe, for now.

 

“Thank you, my lord. I am more grateful than I can say.”

 

“I am merely repaying my debt, Miss Swan. I hope you think it done so suitably.”

 

“Absolutely. We’re even now, my lord.”

 

He nodded in contentment and unsteadily rose from his chair. Emma did similarly, wincing as she put weight back on her leg and she shockwave of pain that followed clashed her teeth together.

 

“Where is the Queen, Miss Swan?”

 

Regina. She’d almost forgotten.

 

“Beyond the town walls, my lord. I thought it safer for her to wait out of sight until I had an answer.”

 

Lord Maurice nodded. Emma was once more struck by the despair settled underneath his gaze, the downward droop of his mouth, the sadness in his stature. It was not her place to aske questions, however.

 

“We shall send out a party to escort Her Grace inside and I shall have your chambers prepared. I shall also summon our healer to see to your injury.”

 

Emma allowed herself a smile. “Thank you, my lord.”

 

She followed him, matching his hobbling pace, from the room.  


	32. Chapter 32

Regina was half-asleep when the sound of approaching hooves startled her awake. That was foolish, she knew. What did Emma say? Keep your guard up at all times. Who knew what was lurking in the trees.

 

Unsure as to whether or not Emma had been successful, she hid, as she had been instructed to. She crouched low behind a tree, peering round the trunk to see the approaching group. Only two guards were astride a horse, another two walked behind them, enclosing a stout, rotund man with thinning hair and eyes as pale as his skin. There was a moment of apprehension on Regina’s part until she saw Emma hobbling along beside him, trying her best to hide her pain. She was not restrained in any way, and was looking straight at the spot where she had left Regina, about ten feet to Regina’s right. They seemed to be following her direction. She had won the lord over.

 

“Regina?” Emma called. “It’s alright, Lord Maurice has agreed to shelter us.”

 

The Queen decided to play it safe and stilled in the trees for a moment. Emma evidently understood what she was doing.

 

“He isn’t holding me captive, princess, I swear it.”

 

These people would be the first she would encounter who would be aware of her identity. The thought made her swallow, hard, before she emerged from her hiding spot and walked out from the line of trees, into the open, before the party.

 

“Your Grace.” The old man, Lord Maurice she assumed, greeted her. “I am honoured to offer you safety.” He sounded genuine, but there was an edge to his tone. He sounded…not resentful…perhaps a little reluctant. He was clearly well aware of the dangers involved with housing her under his roof.

 

“And I am grateful that you are willing to do so, my lord. This favour will not be forgotten.”

 

“I am merely repaying a debt I owe to Miss Swan. We are even now, there is no need for any future reward.”

 

“Nevertheless, what you are doing is noble and courageous, and I thank you.”

 

He bowed his head slightly. “The pleasure is mine.”

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

Once they were escorted inside the walls, then into the castle, a pair of handmaids informed Lord Maurice that the requested chambers had been prepared. He then asked them to take his two guests to them, and asked Regina and Emma to join him for dinner shortly, before excusing himself.

 

The castle set Regina slightly on edge. It was nowhere near as grand as the palace she was used to, but that wasn’t it. The place was almost perfectly symmetrical, right down to the architecture, with two enormously tall towers piercing the sky in parallel lines. Whatever ornament was displayed in the halls, it was juxtaposed with another identical one across the corridor. Where a portrait hung, its twin faced it from the opposite wall, often of the same person in a similar pose with a similar expression. The guards stood vigil to certain rooms in pairs, the maids and servants strolled with a partner, more often than not with similar colouring, in matching uniforms. When they were walked past a window, Regina saw that the gardens that spread out below could have a mirror down the middle and no one would know. It felt most disconcerting to be amongst a world of copies as a single person. She strayed closer to Emma and walked tight at her side for the remainder of the walk. The thief seemed to be almost grateful, similarly disconcerted.

 

Their chambers were twinned as well. They were mirror reflections of each other, separated by a door in the wall dividing them. Something about the fact that Emma would sleep a mere door a way was strangely comforting. She was now used to lying close to the thief, and her protection was welcome, as much as Regina hated to admit, even to herself.

 

“Lord Maurice invites you to change and wash as you wish, then join him for dinner.” Said one of the servants who had been trailing alongside them.

 

“Chambermaids will be provided for both of his lordship’s guests.” Echoed his companion.

 

They nodded in unison, and left via Regina’s door. She glanced over to Emma, who stood in the frame joining the two rooms. She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. Emma smirked back.

 

“You do realise he’s going to expect you in a dress, don’t you?” Regina called to the blonde as she rifled through the extravagances hung up in the closet.

 

Emma sighed in irritation. “I had thought so. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to dress as a ‘lady’, it’s been that long.”

 

Regina rolled her eyes. “You have my gratitude for securing us a sanctuary, but can I suggest you do as you’re expected and don’t cause any unnecessary trouble while we are here?”

 

She glanced over to Emma, still leaning in the doorway, a cocky smile tugging at her lips in a rather becoming way.

 

“I thought we’ve established that it’s usually you getting us into trouble.”

 

Regina scoffed in dismissal and went back to examining the dresses. She was more than a little eager to be rid of the dress she had been wearing most of the time since she’d fled the palace. Perhaps a bath should be her main priority, however.

 

A knock at both rooms’ doors announced the arrival of a pair of maids for both Emma and Regina. Regina felt a strange sort of comfort in a service she was familiar with, but Emma regarded her pair warily, as if she did not know what to do with them. Regina laughed at her as she shut the door joining their chambers.

 

As she stepped into the bath, huge and steaming and perfumed, she almost wept with relief. The water enveloped her and cleansed her, like a hug, and she let the maids tease the tangles out of her hair, noticing that it had grown quite considerably since she had left the King. She wondered if the maids knew who she was.

 

Once thoroughly cleaned and feeling refreshed and finally presentable, crisp white petticoats were pulled over her head and laced at her back, before she once more sifted through the gowns in the closet. There was a time when she would have gone straight for the pale pinks and blues at one end of the rack, complete with caged skirts and lace trimmings and a sizable amount of white netting and unnecessary fabric. That was when the thought of being a princess, of being a queen, excited her beyond sense. Now she was well aware of the darkness slowly creeping into her heart, but she didn’t fear it. The idea that she could kill, she could bring pain and remain unmoving in the face of it, gave her a great sense of power and assurance. Dark magic did indeed cloud the soul, but it gave her confidence like nothing had before.

 

The dress she chose was dark; a royal blue the colour of a cave of sapphire. The skirt did not spread out around her hips, but instead hugged her figure, the fabric spilling out and floating loosely around her legs and clinging to her upper body. It was velvet, she thought, but not the heavy sort, and woven with crystals so intricately, the material looked like the night sky speckled with stars. The decoration was not particularly elaborate, and the shape simple, with a low neckline and tight bodice, and it was rewardingly comfortable to wear without the burden of a corset. Regina sat, attempting to stay awake despite her exhaustion, as her handmaids pulled and tugged at her hair and patted her face to make her look as presentable as possible.

 

When she was pushed out of the door, it was dark, twinned torches flickering off the walls of the corridor. She waited outside her chamber for a few minutes before the next door down opened and Emma limped out, looking decidedly irritated. Regina smiled in amusement, which then shifted into something more serious when she processed that Emma was wearing a dress; a sight both funny, and yet not so funny. Hers was forest green, matching her eyes remarkably well considering it hadn’t been tailored for her personally. The skirt was bigger than Regina’s, and there was intricate golden needlework crawling across the bodice and the hem of the skirt in patterns of vines and flowers. The neckline sat off the shoulder, and Emma’s waist had been pulled in, showing a feminine figure Regina hadn’t been aware of previously. Her blonde hair was pulled up and held in place with crystal-studded pins, tendrils left loose to curl around her face. Her face was powdered lightly, and she wore an expression of deep resentment, that turned to something more complicated and chilling when she took in Regina. The Queen had attended a great many balls and banquets, and was acquainted with some of the most celebrated beauties in the kingdom. She hadn’t realized until now that she’d without a doubt place Emma above any of them.

 

The walk to the Southern Hall, as the maids had called it, was a strange kind of tense. Regina thought perhaps she should say something, but it was an unusual kind of awkward. Emma was evidently uncomfortable in her gown, and her leg didn’t improve matters, and every time Regina looked over at her to try and start a conversation, the words caught in her throat. She must be tired, she reasoned.

 

Lord Maurice was already seated when they arrived. Two men sat to the left of him, one with a stern face and close-cropped dark grey hair, and the other younger and plump with a bird’s nest of ginger hair and eyes an amusingly large distance apart. Two spaces had been left to the lord’s right for Emma and Regina, and three places down from him sat a boy, no more than twenty years in age, with a soft, humble face who’s eyes remained cast down at his lap.

 

“Ah, my ladies. So good of you to join us.” The statement sounded as if it should be sarcastic, as if he were chiding them for being late, but the tone he said it in carried only honesty.

 

“It’s our pleasure.” Said Regina when she realized Emma was not going to say anything in reply.

 

They took their seats and the first course was brought out. It consisted of various roast foul, most no bigger than a dove, with dressings of fruit and honey, accompanied by a strange, savoury biscuit selection, rich in flavour and heavy in texture. Regina was hungry, but saw that Emma was reluctant to eat.

 

“You look enchanting tonight, both of you. Such beauty is rare in my castle now.” Regina fought the urge to chase up the last part of his statement. It was none of their business, she told herself.

 

“Thank you, my lord.” She said humbly. Emma managed a smile and a nod.

 

“Oh yes, my guests…” He indicated to the hard-faced man. “This is Sir Morfold, of the Riverside Castle. A guest in my home while he travels to the Palace to offer his services to the King’s Royal Guard.” Regina bowed her head in greeting, he nodded curtly back. “And this is Lord Hodden’s son, Stephen, who is to join me on my infamous hunting party through the Deerwood.”

 

The fat man gave a broad smile. “Pleasure, my ladies.”

 

“Oh, and my ward.” Lord Maurice waved a hand at the mousy-haired boy on Emma’s right, who glanced up, then back down at his plate, shyly. “Youngest son of Lord Milton. Jonathon.”

 

“These ladies are wedded to the sons of a lord in the Western Isles, and are here on my invitation.” Regina had been wondering what he’d tell people, and thankfully it seemed he was set on keeping their identities secret.

 

The men greeted them, and Emma introduced herself, using her real name. Then again, it was highly unlikely she would be recognised as a forest thief at that point, especially since Stephen Hodden was staring slightly, and Regina herself found herself fast losing her train of thought if she looked at her for too long.

 

Regina introduced herself as Helena, remembering her alias in the Merry Men’s camp. Conversation ensued over sophisticated nibbling of the first course. Emma started to eat, and when she finally gave up being stubborn, it seemed that she had noticed how hungry she truly was. Regina hit her subtly on the leg under the table then shook her head almost imperceptibly when the blonde started to eat the bird meat straight off the bone. From then on, she fumbled with cutlery and barely talked at all lest she be distracted.

 

“So, my lady, how are the Western Isles this time of year? It’s been a while since I was last there, but I remember it being beautiful in summer.” Asked Hodden’s son. Regina felt a stab of panic. These men were likely not a threat, but if they discovered their host to be lying, trouble would brew without a doubt.

 

“Oh yes, they’re at their finest at the moment. Our harvest was bountiful and we’ve had fewer storms than usual.” She bluffed, trying to sound confident.

 

It seemed to satisfy him. “And are you and Lady Emma already acquainted?”

 

She shot a glance at Emma, who was listening now. “Yes. We’ve been good friends for many years now.”

 

He smiled, showing large crooked teeth. Regina was conscious that her and Emma probably didn’t look much like old friends, so shifted ever so slightly in her seat so she was closer to her companion.

 

“Practically sisters. This is not our first trip together.” Regina was surprised when she heard Emma chip in. Her plate was empty and she looked decidedly put-out by this fact.

 

“It’s evident you’re not sisters, however.” He added with another smile. “I’ve rarely seen two people less alike in appearance.”

 

Regina smiled and nodded, ever polite and courteous. He had a point; with Emma all blonde hair and green silk and Regina dark in every sense of the word, they must have looked like day and night sitting beside one another.

 

Emma cheered up again when the second course was brought out, and conversation lulled. Regina ate delicately and politely, and Emma was clearly making an effort as well, dabbing her mouth with a napkin and consciously taking smaller bites than she would normally. Lord Maurice and his other guests made polite conversation about the hunting in the nearby forests and the weather and harvest, which Regina tuned out of as she sipped her wine demurely. Suddenly, something Sir Morfold said grabbed her attention.

 

“So the village has been housing more Royal Guard than there’s room for. The farmers come to me to ask for advice or gold, but ultimately I cannot make the fields more bountiful. If they land any more of them on us, food shortages will become a problem.”

 

Stephen Hodden nodded. “There’s the same problem in the marshes. Too many soldiers so not enough food and equipment to go round. I think King Leopold should give it up as a lost cause and go back to ruling the country like he’s supposed to.”

 

Sir Morfold shrugged. “It’s evident his Queen isn’t coming back. She’s probably lying in a ditch somewhere by now since he hasn’t received a ransom. That, or she’s run away herself.”

 

Regina didn’t realise she was tense all over until she felt Emma’s hand rest gently atop hers under the table, coaxing it out of a fist.

 

“There are more important matters to resolve than the King’s playthings.”

 

Lord Maurice murmured his agreement, and purposely didn’t even glance in Regina’s direction, but did nothing to further the conversation.

 

“I heard she’s a witch.” Said Stephen Hodden, through a mouthful of wild boar. “I heard she killed the King’s last wife so she could take her place.”

 

“She’s around thirty years his junior. She was only a child when the last Queen died.” Lord Maurice said, clearly uncomfortable now.

 

“Witches have ways, I tell you. She used magic to poison the last Queen, and then bewitched the King into marrying her afterwards.”

 

“I heard she’s the most beautiful woman in the land.” Murmured Sir Morfold, looking decidedly unaffected by the idea.

 

“Yes, _because she’s a witch_!”

 

“Or the King married her because she’s beautiful, not because he was under a spell.”

 

Hodden scoffed and drained his goblet of wine. “Either way, he’s lost her, and seems a little desperate to get her back.”

 

“There was talk that she ran away. She’s got an accomplice, a forest thief, who’s helping her escape the kingdom.” Said Sir Morfold.

 

“I heard her accomplice was a knight, and they wanted to get married, so she left the King.”

 

For the first time that evening, the boy, Jonathon, made a sound.

 

“What was that, boy?” Demanded Sir Morfold.

 

Jonathon raised his head. Regina only then realised that she was clasping Emma’s hand in a death grip.

 

“Nothin’…it’s just…um – well I ‘eard she was with a pirate. An’ he was helpin’ her out of the kingdom and all the way to Neverland…”

 

“Wherever she is and whoever she’s with, I hope she’s found, and returned to the palace soon so that we can all get back to living without the eyesore of Royal Guard patrols every five minutes.” Interjected Lord Maurice, and with that the matter was settled.

 

Regina’s heart rate slowed as conversation eased into a different topic, and when the plates were taken away and dessert was presented, she let go of Emma’s hand.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sub-plot is always fun, right?

The space was tiny.

 

The weight of the castle loomed above him, pressing down on the gap, stone by stone.

 

The wooden floor scraped across his small stomach, splinters lodging in sickly pale skin. Despite this, he wriggled further, stronger, forcing his way through the hole and into the adjoining room.

 

With a final push, he was through, scrambling to his feet and brushing the splinters off his torso, specks of blood blooming from the cuts they’d made. The room was dark and cold, and he wasn’t entirely sure where he was. The rooms joined together in a big mess of threatening archways and dark corners, and he never felt safe, no matter where he was. He can’t remember ever feeling safe.

 

He did the only thing he could do; he pressed on. Scampering through the gloom to the slit of light on the floor he took to be the gap under a door, he groped around on the cold wood for a handle. When he found it, however, it wouldn’t open. Locked, of course.

 

He was scared and cold and hungry, but these were not foreign emotions. He did not know much, but he knew that the castle was not all that existed. He knew that if he ran fast enough, hid well enough, thought hard enough, he could get out. He did not know the name of the man – the monster – keeping him there, but he knew he was not his father, or his friend. He must have a father. The Monster had told him that it was his father’s fault that he was trapped there, and his mother’s. They had done something wicked, and had left him behind to save their own skins. What are a mother and father who leave you behind? Parents that don’t love you are no parents at all, surely? The Monster had said that. He said he didn’t have parents anymore. There was nothing and nobody for him to try and return to.

 

Well he knew that he didn’t want to stay amongst these cold, unforgiving walls any longer.

 

The lock was rusty, and he fumbled around for something to hit it with. He came up with a length of pipe, long and heavy and awkward to lift, and he hit at the lock for what felt like hours. He hit it until his arms ached and he wanted to crawl back to his hard, cold bed and rest, but finally the thing creaked and groaned and he managed to force the door open.

 

He was close to outside, he knew now. The light filtering through the windows was clean and fresh. The side hall he was in was cavernous and scary and he shrunk back into the door slightly. He didn’t like open spaces, not at all. He was so visible. The corners were so far apart, and not easy to creep into and hide. The door at the other end was big, but didn’t look locked. The whole castle was dusty, but not as dusty as he remembered it. Everything was dark and colourless, although the only true colour he’d ever really seen was that of the green forest and blue sky out of windows. This place sucked the colour out of everything.

 

He took a deep breath into tiny lungs and braced himself. Throwing himself out into the open space of the room, he made for the door, the vaulted ceiling seemed as high as the sky and the cracked and fading wallpaper watched him.

 

He reached the door, and nothing had moved in the room. The Monster had eyes everywhere, he knew, possibly literally. He had seen the lizard-like man disappear in one place and reappear in another; it was perfectly possible that he physically took an eye out and hid it somewhere, replacing it with a wave of his hand. The Monster had been there as long as he could remember, but the fear did not lessen. Every time he saw scaled skin and bulging eyes, he trembled, and wished and wished that he _did_ have someone, anyone, who cared, to make him go away, or at least hold him and calm him when The Monster had finished tormenting him.

 

He tried to calm himself down, feeling his heart beating against his ribcage. Before he could work himself up anymore, he twisted the doorknob and ran through…

 

…And straight into someone.

 

The blood rushed in his ears as the wall of flesh started in surprise, and he felt tears pool in his eyes. He would be furious. He would beat him and torment him, or do that horrible thing when he put his hand into his chest and closed his fist around his heart.

 

He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t find any words that would make the situation better. He just stood, shaking, waiting for the inevitable.

 

“What on _earth_ are you doing out here?!” A voice hissed.

 

It wasn’t The Monster’s voice.

 

He’d run into a lady. He didn’t know her. He didn’t know there were any ladies in the castle. He knew there were men working for The Monster, he’d even seen a few, but never a lady, only in pictures in the books he’d caught glimpses of before _he_ started shouting.

 

She bent down to his level, her eyes raking his face. She looked confused. She looked worried. She didn’t look wicked. She looked kind.

 

“You must be the child. Come on, it isn’t safe here. No, no, no, you shouldn’t be escaping! If he catches you, there’s no telling what he’ll do!” She fussed.

 

She was pretty, like a princess. She had brown hair and blue eyes like the sky and skin that was smooth and pale, not at all scaly. Her lips were small and red and her hands were soft on his arms and face. When she spoke, it was with a strange way of saying the words, but her voice was gentle.

 

“I don’t want to go back. Please don’t take me back.” He pleaded. Perhaps he could trust the lady. Perhaps she would help him run away.

 

“Don’t be silly, you can’t go out into the world alone. At least here you’re protected. He’ll make sure no serious harm comes to you.”

 

“I hate it here. And I hate him. I want my mother and father. I want to see the forest.”

 

She smiled at him, but her eyes were sad. Had he made her sad?

 

“I don’t like it much here either, but you have to make the most of it.”

 

“Is he keeping you here too?” He asked.

 

The pretty lady frowned and looked sadder. He was sad that he had made her sad.

 

“He isn’t so bad, when you get to know him, but I know how cruel he can be.”

 

He started crying, and then was angry because he knew that he had to be brave and stop crying so much.

 

“Hey, come on, no need for tears.” She said softly, brushing them away with warm fingers. She was dressed simply, in a blue and white dress, not like a princess, more like a maid. She smelt nice; like flowers and honey. He cried more because she was nice and she shouldn’t be stuck there either.

 

“I have to get you back before he notices you’re gone…” She mused, and took his little hand in her own and led him back the way he had come. He cried even harder.

 

“Shh, little one, I’m trying to help. I’m so sorry I can’t get you out of here, but I will try and make things better for you.” She said, and he looked up at her through tear-flooded eyes.

 

She sighed and lifted him into her arms. He pressed his face into her shoulder, her hair was soft like the rest of her, and she held him to her as she hurried back through the castle, mumbling quietly to herself in a worried tone.

 

When she arrived back at his room, she found the door unlocked and carried him inside, putting him down carefully on the bed and kneeling in front of him so she was at his eyeline.

 

“You’re name is Henry, isn’t it?”

 

He nodded.

 

“How did you escape Henry?”

 

“D-door was not locked. The – the room over there…” He pointed to the storage room, just outside his own. Inside was the hole in the wall that led to the next room.

 

She stroked his messy brown hair out of his eyes.

 

“That was very clever of you, Henry, but it’s too dangerous to try to escape. You’re too young. You’d never get out and if you did, it would be worse in the big wide world without anyone to protect you.”

 

“C-can you help me?”

 

She smiled sadly again and shook her head.

 

“I can’t get out either. The doors won’t let me. If I do ever manage to, I will make sure you are with me.”

 

This made him smile gratefully.

 

“Now stay here and be a good boy. It will be time for your dinner soon, I think. Don’t mention anything. I will talk to him and see if I can make him be kinder. He isn’t all bad, I know it. Perhaps he’ll listen.”

 

He was a monster, Henry knew. He was horrible to him and would be horrible to her. He didn’t want The Monster being horrible to her.

 

“Will you come and see me?”

 

She stroked his cheek and it calmed him down a little.

 

“I will try. I knew he was keeping someone prisoner, but I did not know you were so young. He made sure to keep me away from this part of the castle so I would never see you.”

 

“Why does he have you?”

 

“I was payment for something my father needed from him. I came here willingly so my people would be safe.”

 

“My father left me here.”

 

She tilted her head on one side. “I don’t think that can be true. A lot of what he says isn’t.”

 

That gave him hope.

 

She got up to leave and he felt panic grip his chest. He didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay and tell him stories and reassure him that everything would be alright.

 

“What are you called?” He asked before she closed the door. “I’m called Henry. What are you called?”

 

She smiled her soft, pretty smile.

 

“My name is Belle.”


	34. Chapter 34

The maids didn’t ask how Emma had acquired the deep wound on her thigh, remaining silent and courteous as they cleaned it, stitched it and re-bandaged it. She watched their eyes meet, only for a second, a flash of synchronised communication. They clearly knew who she was. Still, they were no worry of hers.

 

Their third day in the castle dawned, and Emma was restless with boredom, just as she had been at Ruby’s. At least there was a little more to occupy herself with here, even though it lacked the familiar company.

 

Regina spent a lot of time reading. Emma disliked this. Her reading skills were not up to Regina’s level by any stretch of the imagination, and she thought perhaps there were more practical uses of Regina’s time, such as improving her control of magic. Regina refused, however, stating that it was too dangerous to do magic that could quickly get out of hand in a castle where no one knew of her abilities.

 

So Emma’s time was mostly dedicated to resting her leg, but as the third day came round, the nurses had suggested exercise to keep the blood flowing and help her keep fit. She agreed with enthusiasm. This was where Regina found her in the early hours of the morning, a damp and clinging mist thinly covering the courtyard.

 

“What on earth are you doing?”

 

Emma did not halt her movements, swinging her practice sword around then drawing it back across her shoulder.

 

“Practicing. Sword fighting sequences are the best form of combat exercise.”

 

“It looks like when one of my uncles got drunk and tried to dance by himself.” Regina said from her position against a tree. “Or like you’re being pursued by a particularly irritating insect.”

 

“I spend most of my time with you. I’m resilient to irritation these days.” Said Emma without faltering or slowing.

 

Regina allowed herself a smirk at that. “Do you imagine your enemy will be willing to dance around a bit before he kills you? Or is it your aim to confuse them to leave them vulnerable while they try to figure out what you’re doing?”

 

Emma went over a sequence of footwork for the fourth time. “Are you here solely to probe me and voice your doubts or is there an another reason, princess?”

 

Regina laughed. “Nope. I’ve matched up Hook’s map to one in Lord Maurice’s library, which is less detailed, but it means I have a pretty good idea in which direction to head from here.”

 

Emma paused to look over her shoulder. Regina’s dress was plain and pretty, like a maid of sixteen’s, it suited her ill.

 

“That was smart, princess. Well done.”

 

“I didn’t come looking for your praise.” Said Regina, raising an eyebrow. Emma wiped her brow with her sleeve and wet her dry lips, bending down to gently rub at her wound, which was definitely healing. The Queen seemed perfectly at ease to watch her discomfort.

 

A few minutes passed of Emma continuing her exercise and Regina leaning against the tree and watching with a strange sort of fascination.

 

“He’s a little miserable, don’t you think?”

 

Regina took a moment to pull herself out of whatever strange thought she had been experiencing and look up at Emma’s face, flushed with exertion.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I was just thinking about when I first met him.” Emma walked over to where her cloak lay by the tree and took a swig of what Regina hoped was water from a flask within it. She was wearing trousers, as was her wont, and the fine material showed the muscles of her slender legs. “He was tough, of course, but he was considerably more lively. Something’s changed, and he hasn’t recovered. I’m curious to know what it is.”

 

Regina shrugged. “It’s none of our business, Swan. We should only stay here as long as we have to. Once your leg is fully healed, we’ll set off again. I need to be out of the kingdom as soon as possible, so we’ll get your son back as soon as we can.”

 

Emma had dropped the sword, and now looked at Regina with something heavy and unidentified, almost like she’d just realized something important, but was wondering _just_ how important it was. Regina felt herself get just a little heavier, for a reason she couldn’t put her finger on.

 

“Come on, let’s get back.”

 

Emma was wary of every face in the castle. If just one person decided to let something slip, the Royal Guard could be upon them in a day. News travels fast, she knew, especially with such a big reward at the other end. She stood close to Regina as they navigated the halls, merging once more into her double when confronted with a world of symmetry.

 

“Do you know how much longer your leg will take to heal completely?” Regina asked, as they stepped into her room and Emma moved towards the door leading to her own.

 

“It’s almost healed now. We could leave tomorrow and it would be fine. I don’t want to outstay our welcome, nor stay in one place too long.”

 

Regina nodded as she pulled the sash from around her waist, a garment far from her style, and threw it onto her bed with distaste. “I want to make absolutely sure. We’ll leave it another day or two.”

 

“Alright. We’ll leave in a day’s time, unless something else crops up.”

 

Emma’s maids brought a basin of warm water to her bathroom and she washed the dirt and sweat off her skin, slipping into another pair of trousers and a tunic, slightly more feminine than her previous attire. Her hair was getting too long, so she sat while they trimmed the tangled ends off and washed it with fragrant oil. When they had finished and it had dried, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and frowned. She looked… _well_ , for the first time in what must have been years. In being shorter, her hair had gained volume, and fell past her shoulders in curls that were now golden and shining, as opposed to dirty blonde and tangled. She had gained weight and muscle, her curves padding out slightly, and the soft greens of her clothes made her eyes look greener. Never had she been vain, but it was nice to know that if she had to, she could rely on her feminine charm to worm out of a situation, since she clearly possessed a beauty she had been previously unaware of.

 

She shook her head, and pulled now-silky hair back into a ponytail, before re-joining Regina.

 

The aforementioned brunette was reading again. Emma could see that the heavy, leather-bound book was in a language she couldn’t read.

 

“What the hell is that?”

 

Regina looked up and rolled her eyes, but Emma could have sworn they hung on her hair momentarily. “It’s ancient Aramaic.”

 

“…and…?”

 

The Queen sighed and looked up once more. “It’s to do with magic. It’s rather enlightening.”

 

“Ok, then you carry on arousing suspicion by showing unusual interest in magic, while I go to the stables. Lord Maurice has offered me a choice of horse for when we leave. I’m hoping to find one that doesn’t look like it’s plotting my murder.”

 

“None of them are plotting your murder, Swan.”

 

“Well, I think I’ll decide for myself.”

 

Regina noted how she moved with ease, her limp barely there as she went back into her chamber to grab her jacket. The brunette sighed and closed the book with a heavy thud.

 

“I’ll come with you. You’ve been bathing for so long I’m bored now.”

 

“You get bored too easily, princess. Not everyone in your life is there to entertain you.” Emma said, but didn’t complain as the Queen followed her out of the room.

 

The stables were grander than anywhere Emma had lived. Long and narrow, she strolled confidently through the straw, content that the beasts were safely shut behind their stable doors. Regina looked more at home than she had in…well…ever, and she went straight for the horse they’d brought, stroking its muzzle and forelock.

 

“This one looks reliable.” Emma called to her. The horse in question was considerably smaller than the one they had ridden in on, but strong, and its eyes were dull and lacking in distain.

 

“It looks old.”

 

“Good. That means I’ll be three steps ahead of it.”

 

“In general, people are three steps ahead of all horses.”

 

Emma shook her head as Regina hid her smirk by feeding the horse a handful of hay. “I’m gonna have to learn to live with them, but there’s something strange about riding something with eyes on either side of its head. You can’t tell where they’re looking.”

 

Emma continued observing the creatures with curiosity. They were all immaculately groomed and muscular, and slightly beautiful, she thought. When she turned back to see Regina, it was clear the other woman was lost in a world of her own.

 

“You ok, princess?”

 

Regina was hovering in the wide exit of the stables with a faraway look on her face. She stared off into the green paddock beyond the wooden walls, eyes shining with what may have been tears.

 

“…Regina?”

 

She expected the Queen to shake it off and act as if nothing was amiss, but she didn’t. She swallowed and responded without turning to face Emma.

 

“I lost someone very important to me in a stable once.”

 

Emma had no idea what to say to that. She shifted awkwardly on the spot. Horses chewed and shuffled calmly in their stalls. The sun had sunk behind a cloud, making the time look later than it was. A light breeze stirred the hem of Regina’s childish dress, and for a moment, Emma was lost in a past she hadn’t even experienced.

 

“Who?”

 

She thought she wouldn’t get a response, then the brunette sighed like the weight of the world had descended on her.

 

“His name was Daniel.”

 

Ah, a _he_.

 

“He was your…?”

 

“My first love. My _true_ love, you could call it. I was only a child, but it was like…like I could see my whole life stretched out in front of me with him…” She continued to stare out of the exit, as if she were talking to herself.

 

“What happened?” Emma asked after a few moments, as curiosity finally got the better of her.

 

“He died.”

 

“Oh. Princess, that’s hor –“

 

“My mother killed him.” There was something hollow in her voice, but the hate was palpable.

 

“Your…your _mother_?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Emma took a few cautious steps towards Regina, altering her angle so she could see her face, the lost look in her eyes.

 

“Why?”

 

She thought perhaps she was pushing it. She would say her and Regina were friends, an inevitability after going through all they had together, but both were still shy to open up. This was the deep, dark secrets of the young Queen’s past. Regina was not evil, as she thought she was, but she was not a gentle person, and this might indicate why.

 

“Because we were going to get away…”

 

She waited for her to continue, which she did after a heavy pause.

 

“He wanted to take me away from her and her controlling nature and abusive words. _She_ wanted to marry me off to whoever was rich enough to win me, so we were going to elope. We were going to escape and marry and live somewhere where no one knew who I was or would judge us. It seems my life is just one big failed escape attempt…”

 

 _This isn’t over yet, princess. I promised to save you, and I intend to do exactly that._ It appeared that the longer she spent with her, the more determined she became to see through her end of the bargain.

 

“Snow White…” She said the name like a dark curse. “She…she found Daniel and me before we left. This is after I saved the little wretch from her horse and my mother accepted the King’s proposal on my behalf. She couldn’t understand why I didn’t love her father, a man almost as old as _my_ father, whom I didn’t know and had no wish to marry. I tried to explain love to her, the idea of there being that one person out there for everyone, but I should have known it was nonsense back then because it appeared that even Snow White couldn’t grasp the concept. She told my mother my plans, and she killed Daniel in the stable before we ran away. She pulled his heart out of his chest and crushed it into dust right in front of me…in a stable a little like this one…”

 

What was she supposed to say to that? Emma thought of her own childhood. She’d experienced a fair amount of heartache, but never on such an extreme level. Perhaps it’s a good thing she never knew her mother, if they had a tendency to do things like that.

 

Regina did not cry, merely looked numbly into the mid-distance. Emma wasn’t conscious of walking up to her until she reached for Regina’s hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze in a way she hoped was supportive, and that felt oddly natural.

 

“That’s pretty horrible, princess. I’m actually kind of glad I can’t say I know how that feels. It sounds like you never did anything to deserve that…”

 

Regina laughed bitterly, a harsh burst that startled Emma slightly.

 

“There’s surprisingly little justice in the world, Emma. No, I didn’t deserve it, and someone like Leopold doesn’t _deserve_ to be King. And you didn’t _deserve_ to have your child taken away –“

 

“How do you know I didn’t?”

 

Regina looked at her for the first time, straight into her eyes.

 

“Because nobody, no matter what they’ve done, deserves that.”

 

She looked forward again, and Emma just stared at her.

 

“Sometimes, things just happen. Moping about right and wrong and _fate_ won’t undo them. You just have to find a way to cope.”

 

“Is revenge a way of coping?”

 

“To some, yes. To me; yes. Perhaps I’d get comfort from thinking that what happened to me, what happened to Daniel, happened for a reason, but it didn’t. It happened because it just so happens that I was born with an emotionless, manipulative bitch of a mother. It happened because I was a fool to trust a stupid child who couldn’t possibly comprehend the pain she caused me. It happened because I couldn’t protect him. It just happened.”

 

Emma said nothing, her hand still clutching Regina’s. Feeling it tense with suppressed rage, she let it fall.

 

“And we move on and we try to forgive, but we can’t. So I ran away and didn’t look back. It’ll catch up with me someday, one way or another. But I’ll never get him back. I’ll never get that limitless sense of possibility back. If he was my true love, there’s no one out there to replace him.”

 

She turned to face Emma, who was still speechless.

 

“So we deal with it, don’t we? We move on and pretend everything’s ok?”

 

Emma nodded gravely.

 

“Because we have to, right? Because otherwise we’d go mad.”

 

Emma swallowed hard and felt her heart contract in her chest.

 

“We don’t forget though, because then what would there be to live for? We let our hate drive us, and people judge us, they call us ‘evil’. Who are they to call us evil? We can never be like them, we can never be pure and good and loving, because nothing, _nothing_ , can erase the past, and _nothing_ can bring back what we lost. We’re eternally tainted with a grief we’ll never overcome.”

 

_‘We’? What do you know of me? Of my grief?_

Regina just looked at her for a minute, through eyes that were seeing something else entirely, and she’d never seen something so honest. Emma was gripped by the bizarre desire to embrace her, but before she could do something foolish and act on it, Regina moved away and left the stable without so much as a glance behind her.

 

 


	35. Chapter 35

“Truly, there is no way I can repay you that would show the extent of our gratitude. You offered us sanctuary when you knew the danger of betraying the crown. We will be eternally grateful.” Emma declared sincerely, bowing her head to Lord Maurice, who sat in a plush armchair, bigger even than him, practically swallowing him with its cushions. Emma stood before him, hair pulled back, wearing trousers that had been made for her out of the softest leather she had ever come across.

 

Lord Maurice gave a smile that was tinged with sadness. “You needn’t, Miss Swan, as I have said before, I am merely repaying the debt I owed you.”

 

Emma nodded. “Of course, my lord, but Regina and I will be leaving soon, now her injury has healed. It may be as early as tomorrow morning, and I didn’t want to leave without fully expressing my thanks.”

 

Lord Maurice observed her through pale eyes. The sun crept out from behind a bank of cloud and flooded into the room, catching in the stain glass of the chandelier and dancing across the walls in yellows and greens and blues. A flock of birds flew past the huge window, and Emma was hit by a small, abrupt sense of vertigo on remembering just how high into the sky the tower climbed.

 

“Please sit down, Miss Swan.” He said at last, indicating to the windowsill running along beside him.

 

She complied, and perched on the sill, facing the old man, who leant forward to scrutinise her further.

 

“I will ask only one thing of you as a way of showing your…gratitude, as you say.”

 

Emma didn’t allow her trepidation to show. “Yes, my lord?”

 

“Why are you helping her?”

 

Emma considered, thinking of Regina, who was no doubt reading in the grounds somewhere or setting candles alight. She owed him, she supposed, for all the comfort they had been given.

 

“Because I need her.”

 

“You need her? What do you need with the Queen? Ransom? Blackmail?”

 

Emma was briefly offended for his assumptions veering towards the criminal intentions, before remembering that she was a notorious outlaw.

 

“No. I…I’m sorry, my lord, I can’t tell you everything, it’ll just put all three of us in more danger. She is going to help me, let’s say. I need to defeat someone, to get back something they took from me, and Regina will play a large part in it.”

 

Lord Maurice squinted at her, processing.

 

“The _Queen_ will help you defeat someone? Who? Who has something of yours?”

 

_Oh, what the hell. He’s shown so much kindness, and he isn’t going to tell anyone, the least you can do is be honest._

 

She wet her lips. “The Dark One. We’re going after him. He – he has…my son. He has my son.” Her voice wavered slightly at the end of the statement.

 

“The Dark One? You can’t possibly be going after _him_?! You’ll both be killed!”

 

Emma shook her head. “We have a plan, rest assured if we do die, it won’t be without a fight. I need my son back. It’s been too many years. I can’t leave him there any longer.”

 

Lord Maurice’s eyes filled with tears, and he stammered silently for a moment, as if searching for the words. It was as if all the sadness he had kept compressed, all the misery Emma had detected in him from the moment she saw him again, came flooding to the surface, and he looked decades older.

 

“It’s impossible…we have tried…”

 

Emma frowned. “ _You_ have tried? To take the Dark One’s castle?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why?”

 

Lord Maurice met her gaze, and she saw her own struggle, her own agony reflected back at her almost identically.

 

“Because he has my child too.”

 

 _Your child_. Of course, she had felt something missing, something unspoken and absent, the heaviness resting on the lord. He had lost what she had.

 

“Your child? I didn’t know you had one, my lord…”

 

He nodded solemnly. “A daughter. My beautiful girl. That’s how we held off the ogres during the Ogre Wars. I sought his help. I _needed_ it. I had to protect my people. They were my priority. But when I heard his price for saving us, I couldn’t go through with it…” His gaze drifted to the mid-distance. He was in another time altogether.

 

“He wanted her. He wanted my girl. He said he needed a maid. Not to take as a wife, he assured me, merely as payment, to keep his castle in order, my own flesh and blood, my only child…”

 

He looked out of the window, and Emma remembered the tearing at her heart, the ripping of her soul, when her child, the child she never thought she would love, was taken from her by the same monster Lord Maurice spoke of.

 

“She was such a fighter, my fierce, brave child. She wouldn’t have me protect her when the land was in such great danger. She volunteered. I tried to stop her. Her betrothed, Sir Gaston, tried to talk sense into her, but in vain. She did what she knew she must to save our people, and agreed to his terms. He saved our lands, and took my daughter. She’s been there ever since. Four years, it has been. Not a day goes by that I don’t ache to see her smile. Her mother passed when she was still an infant. She was all I had.”

 

Emma let him lose himself in his memory, before speaking hesitantly.

 

“He has had Henry for six years. I was stupid to let him go so easily. I will win him back, however, I will _take_ him back. And when I do, I will recover your daughter too.”

 

Lord Maurice shook his head. “Many have tried. Even Sir Gaston, and he did not return. He is too strong.”

 

“We have a way.”

 

“What way is that?”

 

Emma sighed and looked down at her lap.

 

“What is your daughter’s name?”

 

“Belle.” He said, with infinite longing and pain in his cracked, foreign voice.

 

“I promise you, unless I am killed when trying, I will bring Belle back to you. Regina and I will break in there, destroy that monster, and we will have our children back.”

 

Lord Maurice’s smile was sad and doubtful. “Thank you, Miss Swan. I wish you every luck, and if there is anything I can do to aid your cause, soldiers or weapons or…”

 

Emma shook her head. “We’re going to have to rely on wit as opposed to brute strength, I think.”

 

He nodded. “You probably have a better idea of how to accomplish it than I ever did. I’m truly sorry about your son. It is a great pain, one I know well, and I pray he returns to you.”

 

She smiled tightly. “As do I. I will bring your daughter to you as soon as we free her.”

 

There was little if any hope in Lord Maurice’s wrinkled face, but he smiled and nodded nonetheless. He looked tired. She felt tired. The sun was setting behind the castle walls, turning orange as it was swallowed by the hills and horizon.

 

Emma thanked him once more, before taking her leave and skirting through the corridors, avoiding as many people as possible, their eerie duality still setting her on edge. She headed for her chamber, hoping to talk to Regina about their proposed leaving date being the following morning.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is as satisfying as I intended it to be...

Regina was not one for existential crises.

 

In her life so far, she’d faced dire situations and crippling grief, but had never once lost her way. She made a habit of fixing her sights on something; a goal, an achievement, and that would push her forward. Through her childhood, it was to get out from under her mother’s wing, or talons, as it turned out. She wanted to be a princess, as Cora had promised she would be. She wanted to be happy and independent and free, in a world that glowed and shone and with a prince she would love, and who would love her more as each year passed. She dreamed of splendour and glamour, as most little girls do, she wanted to sit and read for hours, to ride when she wished, to chose her own dresses, and most of all, to never have to listen to her mother shout, or feel her abuse. Her prince would protect her. He would never raise a hand against her, or turn away from her. He would never tell her what to do. He’d be a companion, not a master.

 

And then had come Daniel, and she had realized that princes came from different places in different forms. He was her saviour. And from then on, her goal had been to run away with him. She gave up fantasies of palaces; she didn’t need them anyway. She didn’t mind where she lived out the rest of her days, as long as he was there with her. Freedom is what she longed for then.

 

When her mother had torn the heart of her true love out of his chest, her goal shifted in a moment of agony and fury. She would have her vengeance. She would escape her mother’s clutches, she would marry the King, she would get closer and closer to Snow White, she would gain power and status, and then she’d strike down all who had once wronged her, and anyone who planned to in the future. She’d destroy them all, if it were the last thing she did.

 

And look where she was now.

 

She _was_ lost. She felt a kind of black fog creeping in out of the corner of her eye. She felt tiny, like clinging to the last bit of dry rock as the tide comes in. The walls around her stretched before her eyes, the darkness grew darker and the soft firelight of the evening seemed to be swallowed. She perched on the edge of her borrowed four-poster bed in her borrowed nightgown, dark hair spilling over her shoulders in loose curls. She didn’t look like a murderer or a queen then, she looked like the child she had once been; quiet and obedient and frightened of her mother and frightened to leave her mother. She had to get moving and quickly, this hanging around in comfort was giving her time to think, and she didn’t like where those thoughts were heading.

 

What was she to do after all of this was over? Where would she go? Who would she be? Could she make something out of her life or would she live the remainder of it drowning in regret?

 

She wrapped her arms around herself protectively, a mannerism that was becoming more and more frequent in her subconscious movement these days. She thought of the gaping emptiness and ambiguity of her future, and where it once thrilled her to know it was entirely hers to control and shape, as it should be, the weight of the unknown now crushed her until she felt anyone passing may trample her.

 

She thought of Emma. She thought of some poor six-year-old child trembling in a dungeon somewhere. She thought of a boy with Emma’s blonde hair and green eyes and inquisitive, determined expression. His safety, his freedom, perhaps his very life was now dependent on Regina, and in a way this thought soothed her. Her future wasn’t purposeless, she had a goal; she must do everything in her power to save that innocent child, to free him from a crippling isolation and terrorised childhood that was likely an extreme version of what she herself had experienced. She would save Emma’s son, or die trying.

 

Dying didn’t seem so scary anymore. At least it was final. At least it had an end.

 

And Emma, what would become of her? Would the forest thief settle down and raise her child, an unusual but otherwise content family? Would she try to find his father? Would she be honest? Would she be practical? Would she be both? Would Regina ever know?

 

Emma, with her arrogant smirk and hard expression hiding that single glimmer, that one wisp of weakness. Regina had seen it, if only briefly, when she’d said her son’s name for the first time in her presence, when Hook’s dark, accusing eyes bore into green with intensity she could never match. It was brimming, fighting, pushing against the surface, when she returned from the enchanted lake. Regina still did not know what had happened there, but it had changed her, however slightly, and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to know what she had experienced in that mysterious place. She’d seen that weakness, the weakness Emma never let anyone see, when her eyes widened and were left open and vulnerable as she stumbled back, raising a hand to her lips, cheeks flushed, after wrenching herself away from Regina’s lips. It was a weakness that, in that moment, Regina had felt was mirrored perfectly in her own eyes.

 

They weren’t so different. She thought that Emma _did_ get scared. Losing her son scared her. Losing her mind scared her. Losing her strength scared her. Losing scared her.

 

And somehow, a part of Regina scared her.

 

And there she was.

 

For a moment, Regina believed her thoughts had become so consuming that her imagination had conjured Emma up, but no, there she stood, in the doorway, in thin, loose fitting trousers and shirt that she slept in. Her hair had been brushed out of the style it had been pinned into for dinner, and it was more volumous than usual, framing her face, expression neutral as ever, yet there was a grim down turn to her mouth, and a frown etched onto her brow.

 

“You somewhere else entirely, princess?”

 

 _Yes, I was just thinking about how the sight of you no longer brings me dread, but instead comfort. How you are the only stable thing in my life at the moment. How, somewhere along the line, I’ve gone from fighting so hard to be rid of you as quickly as possible to missing waking up next to you and your safety. I_ was _elsewhere, I was somewhere where everything makes sense and everything’s black and white and hate is hate and love is love and no one ever mixes the two. I was somewhere where you were happy, and I was happy, and we were not making each other unhappy. I was somewhere where you had your son and I had the confidence to move on and forget that you gave me back my diamond bracelet that my father gave me, that you insisted I take my dress off to keep warm, that you traced the line of my spine when lacing up my corset and the shape the teeth left on my leg, that you smiled at me before the battle on the Jolly Roger like it was the easiest thing in the world and that you forgot who I was for just a second, once, maybe, that you make me laugh and make me scream and that you have made me feel stupid and inadequate so many times and you accepted everything I threw back at you, that you told me about your past, that you let me sleep on the bed, that you took a knife in the thigh to protect me, that I cried when I thought you were dying, that I told you about the most painful moment of my life like I could trust you, that I forced you up against a tree because the taste of your lips changed something in me, that you’ve inexplicably and undeniably touched me, altered me, and I think it’s too late to take it back._

 

“Yes, somewhere else.”

 

Emma pushed herself off the doorframe and walked slowly towards the Queen. She tilted her head on one side, and stood to observe Regina for a moment, before hesitantly sitting down beside her.

 

Emma fidgeted. She didn’t know how to even begin to talk to this woman after she’d left herself so vulnerable the last time they spoke. Regina’s firelit face was weary, like some wise deity; beautiful and tired of the tribulations of humanity.

 

“He has his daughter.”

 

Regina glanced at Emma, and the slight tugging together of her eyebrows indicated her question sufficiently for Emma to offer an answer.

 

“The monster we’re after has taken Lord Maurice’s daughter. Belle, her name is. I’ve heard talk of her, actually; kind and beautiful, I hear, but then again it’s not unusual to hear that about a lord’s daughter. He took her in exchange for saving Lord Maurice’s land from the ogres. She went willingly, I believe, but she’s his prisoner. I promised him that we would rescue her if we could, that we would save her along with Henry.”

 

Regina processed the information then nodded. “It explains his misery. I suppose you can relate.”

 

Emma’s lips set in a line, and nodded barely. “We have to try.”

 

“We will.”

 

The awkwardness was thick like smoke in the air between them. Regina stared emotionlessly into the fire. Emma stared at Regina not quite so emotionlessly.

 

“Do you blame yourself?”

 

Regina dragged her eyes away from the flames and regarded Emma with caution, before sighing deeply, like a woman twice her age might.

 

“I did at first. I thought that if I had only been more careful, if I had only stood up to mother, then I wouldn’t have lost him. Then my anger overtook everything, and I blamed the girl. It was her fault indirectly, after all. I’ve always known it was mostly my mother’s fault, she physically pulled his heart out of his chest, then wed me to the father of his indirect killer.” She swallowed hard, and shook her head, looking down into her lap. “I don’t know who I blame anymore. It was a long time ago, and hatred has blinded me to many things. Grief means that it doesn’t matter whose fault it was, only that _someone_ be held accountable so you don’t feel quite so helpless.”

 

Emma nodded gently. She could see a lifetime of agony in the unfamiliar slump of Regina’s shoulders, the tension in her jaw, the sadness in endlessly dark eyes, the only light in them the flickering reflection of the fire.

 

“I suppose, I should have been more careful…I should have…but I didn’t –“

 

Regina’s voice wavered and broke, and Emma was horrified to see a tear crawl down her cheek. The ground was wrenched from beneath her. No, no she couldn’t see her cry. This was too far, too intimate, too real. She could perhaps convince herself that she had never seen a real emotion of Regina’s, that they were not yet at the stage that came with a backstory. That single tear, winding its way down smooth skin, was a confirmation of everything Emma had feared. It meant that Regina didn’t bother smothering it anymore. It meant she no longer cared if Emma saw her weakness. It meant she no longer feared exposure. It meant, finally, trust.

 

That was what caused Emma to reach up and brush it away without thinking. She wouldn’t have it. She wouldn’t make her uncomfortable and vulnerable because she was curious, because at some point, making her upset was no longer fun.

 

“I’m sorry, Emma. I’m sorry that all this has happened to you. Please accept my apology because it’s likely to be the only one I give you.” Regina sniffed.

 

The blonde just nodded. They both knew Regina had done little to apologise for, but she needed some sort of redemption, and so Emma kept quiet.

 

The Queen shook her head and gave a bitter laugh.

 

“We’re quite a match, you and I, dealing with heartbreak through anger and violence.”

 

Emma smiled softly. “It’s worked pretty well so far. We’d probably be dead if we weren’t so broken.”

 

Regina’s eyes shifted focus, and Emma could tell her thoughts were far away.

 

“Was Henry’s father your true love?”

 

Emma was a little shaken by the question, and frowned at the other woman, who still looked away.

 

“My…my ‘true love’?”

 

Regina nodded. “I was told by a friend of mine when I was younger that you have one true love. Everyone else is just build-up or let-down.”

 

Emma frowned. “Forgive me if I don’t take your friend’s word for it.”

 

“She was a fairy.”

 

Emma rolled her eyes. “Of course she was.”

 

Regina smiled, and the tightness of it looked like self-loathing.

 

“You think Daniel was your ‘true love’?”

 

The brunette sighed heavily. She _knew_ Daniel had been her true love. Her thoughts drifted back to the camp in the forest, the ease with which she talked to Robin Hood, the strange tingling of her skin, the glimpse of a tattoo on his arm that could have been a lion. Magic was at work, that she knew, and Tinkerbelle had promised a second chance at true love. However, Regina had been scared. She had been scared for her heart and didn’t _want_ another chance. Daniel was her true love; that was it for her. Her opportunity had left with the light in his eyes. She didn’t need the fairy’s magic, forged in pity, to lead her to another. If Robin had been the one she was destined to start anew with, then she’d no doubt made a huge mistake in leaving him without so much as a word. Still, at the time it hadn’t felt right. He had been handsome and charming and kind, he’d shown them every cutesy, but something turning in the bottom of her stomach dragged her away from him. Had she sacrificed all her potential happiness because she was scared? Because she was stubborn? Because she didn’t _need_ another “true love”?

 

“There’s no such thing. You love as many people in your life as you let yourself.”

 

Regina shook her head. “Not me. There was just the one. He was perfect, and now he’s gone.”

 

Emma narrowed her eyes, disbelieving. “Maybe he was perfect, but from my experience of love, it’s usually far from perfect. ‘True love’ is something couples say to reassure each other there’s no one else, when there always could be.”

 

“We’re all slaves to fate.”

 

“Bullshit.” Regina started slightly at Emma’s harsh tone. “Fate, destiny, magic; they have nothing to do with it. No one gets to choose who they love. _Nothing_ does. Fate and destiny don’t get a say either. It just happens.”

 

Regina was clearly agitated, but there was an inherent exhaustion in her less-than-pristine posture, a clear difference to the usual, that implied she hadn’t the energy to fully commit to a debate.

 

“I’ll take that as a no.”

 

“What?”

 

“Henry’s father was not your true love.”

 

Emma clenched her jaw. “No. He wasn’t. We were far from perfect, but I loved him, and he loved me, for a time anyway. Even if it wasn’t forever, and even if it wasn’t a fairytale, I loved him all the same, so don’t you dare tell me yours was more worthy, just because it was _‘true’_. No love is worthier than another. It doesn’t work that way.”

 

The conversation was giving Regina a stomach ache. This new world of motherless children and wolf-girls and one-handed pirates and lion tattoos became more tiresome the more familiar it got and she was uncomfortable with the idea that she was becoming comfortable with it all. She no longer ran from brambles and rainstorms, when she found herself lost in the woods she didn’t cry, and if she was confronted with a band of outlaws threatening to take her jewellery again, she’d shoot an arrow through their hearts, a newly acquired skill, before she ripped them out.

 

She couldn’t help but feel, however, that the darkness inside her had receded a little. Of course, she was harder, no longer a frightened little girl who waited for fairies and dark wizards to fix everything for her, but the anger and hatred that had bubbled _so close_ to the pristine surface for so many years had ebbed. She was simultaneously tougher and softer, and the conflict was so confusing she wasn’t sure if the result was good or bad.

 

“I think you know more than me on that count too. Your experience has become quite tiresome.” Regina said monotonously.

 

Emma picked up on the sudden coldness. “Forget I said anything.”

 

“No, you’re right. I am not worthier. I am a child, as we have established, the millstone round your neck, and you are my disagreeable protector in this world of curses and crocodiles.”

 

“You’re not a child. You were when I met you. Things have changed…”

 

Regina shook her head and stood from the bed, walking to the mantelpiece with her back to Emma. The fire flickered against her nightdress, and her silhouette looked vaguely demonic.

 

“We leave tomorrow, I believe?”

 

“We do.”

 

“And we shall be at the castle in two day’s time, with the horses?”

 

“We shall…we should be…”

 

“And what then?”

 

“We rescue my son. We rescue my son and Lord Maurice’s daughter.”

 

“And then?”

 

“And then we part ways. Then I make sure you’re somewhere safe and secret and we leave in different directions.”

 

“Right. Good.”

 

“Any idea where you want to go, princess?”

 

“Anywhere. Anywhere’s better than here.”

 

“Anywhere is just the same as here. Maybe not obviously, but there will always be people like Hook and the King and Lord Maurice…and me…”

 

“I’ll have to watch out for them then.”

 

“Sorry about that.”

 

“Emma, you –“

 

Emma waited for the sentence that never came.

 

“I what?”

 

“…You must understand…I’m not good with gratitude…”

 

“I understand, princess.”

 

They remained in suspended silence. The fire crackled in the hearth, and Regina stood over it, feeling the hot air on flushing cheeks and relishing in the sensation. Emma stayed perched on the end of the bed, positioned as she always was; ready to take flight if necessary. She’d been in more dangerous situations than she could count, but this was a whole new level of terrifying.

 

“I’m sorry for treating you like shit.”

 

The apology came out of nowhere, and Regina visibly stiffened.

 

“I shouldn’t have done that; your first time out of the palace walls and I made you feel scared and alone and I’m sorry. It’s made you bitter, I can tell.”

 

Regina shook her head, and the firelight caught her hair like molten metal and it made Emma’s mouth go dry.

 

“It’s made me stronger. I needed it. Enough of pity, it’s for the weak. I can survive now, thanks to you and your harsh tongue.”

 

More silence. Emma shifted restlessly.

 

“I think, in some twisted way, I’m gonna miss the arguments…” She said wistfully, almost as if she’d forgotten the other woman was present.

 

Regina, shocked at the confession but thankful she wouldn’t have to be the first to breach this area, exhaled heavily.

 

“We did all right, the two of us.” Emma continued.

 

Regina smiled. “Yes we did.”

 

“You saved my life.”

 

“And you mine.”

 

“I’m not used to being saved. It doesn’t suit me.”

 

“It definitely didn’t suit you then.”

 

“Did you think about leaving me?”

 

Regina paused, and then felt the fire turn the honesty inside her to liquid, flowing from her lips.

 

“Yes. I did.”

 

Emma nodded silently, numbly, as if she had expected it.

 

“I couldn’t, though. I realized that. But I did consider it, if only for a moment.” Her voice wavered slightly, then started to break. “You were nearly dead, Emma…you were…so nearly dead…I thought you would die –“

 

“I think I heard you. Somewhere, in the haze of everything, I think I heard you calling.” Emma said, her voice quiet and contemplative.

 

“I called. I screamed. We were lucky I didn’t attract the King himself, let alone his henchmen. I was so scared.” She shook her head, then tilted her face towards the tall ceiling. “Imagine, I was so scared to stay with you, then within weeks I was terrified of losing you. Things change fast.”

 

Emma licked her suddenly dry lips. “You would have been ok on your own, princess. You’re stronger than you think, you’re a survivor, and you’ve fought so hard I think it would be nearly impossible for them to stop you now.”

 

Regina bristled at this. She had spent her whole life considering herself simultaneously superior and inferior to everyone around her, and hence did not know how to react to truly honest compliments.

 

“That isn’t why.” She said, and her tone was suddenly harsh. Her emotions were all over the place, and she felt guarded and vulnerable at the same time.

 

Emma swallowed. Her heart was thundering in her chest and she didn’t know why. She remembered waking up in agony to wide, dark eyes, filled with worry and what she swore were tears. She remembered the siren and her teasing and her truths. She remembered Ruby’s knowing look that spoke of more than Emma could comprehend. She remembered waking in terror in an inn only to look over and see the Queen sleeping next to her, as if she trusted her. She remembered the way her stomach burned and her eyes prickled and her teeth grinded as Regina spoke so openly with Hood, and then what she would call satisfaction when Regina turned away from him later that night, after she’d ruined everything in the most fantastic, magical and exhilarating way possible.

 

“That isn’t why what?” Something in her thought it knew the answer.

 

“I wasn’t worried about survival.”

 

Emma supressed a shiver; this was no time for foolishness. This was no time for this to all come back and bite her like she knew it would eventually.

 

“You should have been. That should always be your first concern.”

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Regina sagged forward, forehead resting against one arm on the mantelpiece and the other falling at her side in defeat. The vulgarity of her language threw Emma.

 

“It never ends with you, does it? The belittling, patronising remarks, you have an endless supply! Maybe one day, if we’re lucky, you’ll get off your high horse and get some human perspective.” She hissed downwards.

 

Emma bristled. She seemed to posses the ability to effortlessly turn an almost warm conversation into a dispute.

 

“I’ve got some perspective, princess. Survival; _that’s_ what’s important. Out there in the real world, you’re gonna have to fight for it. Everything else is trivial, and goddamnit I’ve tried so hard to make you realise that. Life is all that matters. My high horse is entirely justified.” She retorted.

 

“ _’Life’_?! What the hell does life matter if all you do is ‘survive’? Life is worth _nothing_ , Emma, it is pointless if all you’re doing is _surviving_.”

 

“Life is life. It’s better than death. I’m so sick of your morbid theories, Regina, just _live_. Let yourself live. You don’t need an excuse or a backup, just live because you are alive, because your instinct tells you you must. Live because death is nothing. Life is more valuable than anything.”

 

Regina stood upright and put her hands on her hips. “You’re so _literal_! So narrow minded!”

 

“I’m not narrow minded, I just think differently to you!” Emma had promised herself she wouldn’t shout, but her voice was steadily approaching such a volume.

 

“You think of tomorrow only, and never what comes after it...you have so much freedom, but only see one path…and I _hate_ you for it!”

 

“ _Do you?!_ ”

 

“ _NO_!” Regina spun to face Emma suddenly, the shifting light throwing shadows into the hollows of her cheeks, her eyes were wild, a mixture of anger and fear. Her chest heaved against silk, the colour high in her cheeks, and Emma stared straight back, brows set like stone over hard eyes.

 

The only lapse in the silence is symmetrical breathing as they sized each other up. A look of utter defeat spread across Regina’s face, like the sun sinking finally below the horizon.

 

“No…no I don’t…”

 

Emma’s eyes burned like green fire, but as always, Regina did not flinch under their blaze.

 

“Not a bit…you know that…”

 

Emma nodded slowly, as if she was just coming to the realisation herself.

 

“Oh, I know, princess.”

 

Regina shook her head, and the terror in her eyes was far from reassuring.

 

“No. This wasn’t – this wasn’t how this was supposed to go…I shouldn’t – “

 

Emma shook her own head in response. “No. It seems like very little has gone according to plan.”

 

Regina took an assured step forward, as if to approach, then thought better of it and stopped. She closed her eyes and shook her head again. Emma’s head was beginning to throb.

 

“When – in the clearing…when they were surrounding us, and you were unconscious, they were going to kill us I was sure…I didn’t know I was capable of what I did…but it just happened…I found it in me...because I had to give us a chance…I had to give you a chance…”

 

Emma nodded and swallowed, meeting Regina’s gaze once more. Something sharp and suffocating had a hold of her heart and she didn’t move for fear of letting it crush it.

 

“I’m…I’m not good with things like this…I just think you should know that – that you’re actually quite incredible. Of course, you’re insufferable and impossible and stubborn and disagreeable…but I realized that I didn’t want you to die…and now I’m scared that the concern for your life wasn’t for your own benefit, but for mine. I’m scared that _I_ didn’t want to lose you…and I’m scared that that’s what’s going to happen –“

 

“No. Stop…please…I – shit, Regina…” Emma was horrified to find tears on her cheeks, slipping from blurred eyes down her face. Regina looked similarly shocked, and almost remorseful, and that made them fall faster. Emma’s head dropped forward and she tangled her hands in her hair in frustration. The Queen was the one for emotional breakdowns, not Emma, not the thief of the Enchanted Forest; indestructible and cold, and thus successful. She was not weak, and uptight, self-important, intelligent, _beautiful_ queens certainly didn’t make her so.

 

Regina nodded, mildly horrified at seeing Emma cry. “You’re right…of course, this is…this can’t – it wasn’t supposed to…”

 

“I don’t think ‘supposed to’ has anything to do with it...” Emma said, sitting upright and wiping her eyes. Regina remembered their conversation that must have been only a few minutes previously, but felt like centuries ago. _No one gets to choose…_

“Nothing will change.” Regina stated, and her voice had a newfound strength behind it. “Nothing can change. Difficulty has nothing to do with it; it hasn’t stopped us before.”

 

Emma swallowed. She felt more tears spill and hated herself for her weakness. She determinedly blinked back more, and realized that the weight in her chest was heavier than it had been throughout the entire journey, as if the last two minutes of conversation had added more and more mass to its bulk. She felt it hovering at the edge of a sheer drop, like a cliff edge, teetering on the precipice, impossibly heavy, but so close to falling away forever. She struggled to breathe.

 

“I let you think you were worthless…” Emma choked out. “…I’m no better than your mother…I pushed you further and further back into your shell because I enjoyed it, it was empowering, the truth is I couldn’t see what I was doing. I’ve been so stupid, and cruel, and so blind to what was happening that I –“

 

Regina shook her head, staying firmly rooted to the spot. The air was so heavy, the room so small, the distance so huge.

 

“We ripped and tore at each other so much that we didn’t even notice when we started attacking ourselves.”

 

An unexpected sob wrenched itself from Emma’s throat and Regina’s eyes filled with responding tears. The world was collapsing around them.

 

“I’ve done that my whole life.” Emma managed. “I’ve fought because surrender means weakness and weakness means death…means failure. I shouldn’t – you – I have no idea how but…but you’re different. I mean, you’re not different, it’s chance, surely – you threw it all back at me. You were never scared of me. You waited so long to trust me…you….you’re _so much_ like me, as well as being my opposite…” This was exhausting for Emma, but as the weight increased, it also got closer to the edge.

 

Regina shook her head and mumbled something sharply to herself, and Emma didn’t dare ask her to repeat it. She sighed and fisted her hands in her nightgown, and Emma stared at her because she couldn’t help it anymore.

 

“I _was_ scared of you. That’s why I didn’t tell you anything. That’s why I was so hostile for so long. You scare me for no reason, no superficial worry of safety, anyway. It’s a different kind of fear.”

 

Emma slowly rose from the bed, and stood a respectable distance away from Regina.

 

“I would say you shouldn’t be scared, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

 

Regina nodded like she understood, and her gaze was like sharpened, shining steel. Emma felt herself tremble, somewhere deep in the core of her.

 

It was Regina’s turn to allow her eyes to overflow, and she simply swallowed hard, setting her jaw as a couple of slow, lethargic tears crawled down flawless skin. Emma wasn’t fully conscious of moving forward until she stood before Regina like an offering. Regina simply stared back, strong and defeated, exhausted and crackling with energy.

 

Regina shook her head resolutely as more gentle tears fell, breath trembling in her lungs.

 

“I’m not – I can’t – Emma…”

 

Emma reached forward and found nothing but soft surrender under her fingertips, and she pulled the Queen into her, wrapping her arms around tense shoulders and feeling all hesitancy flee Regina as her own arms wound round Emma’s waist.

 

The thief had no idea how they had gone from avoiding all physical contact wherever possible to freely embracing in Regina’s bedchamber. It was more than a simple embrace too; it was like clinging to a wreckage. Regina shook in her arms, pulling Emma tighter against her, and the blonde strengthened her grip in response, and let her eyes slide closed as she buried her face in glossy dark hair, perfumed like lavender and luxury and lost hope and life itself.

 

It was like she could finally breathe. The weight trembled and intensified and got heavier and heavier and _finally_ toppled, and she was clinging to Regina as she felt it fall, spiralling into somewhere that is irrelevant, because it was gone, and she realised then just how long it had been sitting there; just how long this had been brewing, the inevitability of it all.

 

So she wasn’t surprised when she pulled away and Regina looked at her through entirely new eyes. There was nothing left to shock her. She remembered the pathetically brave, spoilt little thing that she found in the forest, the contempt she’d felt for days at her helplessness and pride, the anger that turned to bickering that was almost friendly, then quiet, muted admiration. Then she remembered the lust, the first stirrings in her lower stomach, she wasn’t immune to physical beauty and a fiery temper and she hated herself for being so weak. She remembered the tentative friendship and camaraderie, then not so tentative, and it seemed like this was the natural progression of the whole experience, this crazy adventure that’s taught her so much, and yet she was still surprised before now.

 

Regina raised her hand as if to touch Emma’s face, then let it fall to her collarbone where it gently grasped the fabric of Emma’s loose shirt. Emma swallowed and felt her cheeks grow warm. Regina gave a tiny shake of her head once more.

 

“Emma…”

 

It sounded like an excuse, like a caution, like a fear, like a secret. Emma did not know what to make of it, so she didn’t move, merely let the atmosphere wrap itself around her, and she was suffocating yet floating. Her hands stroked down Regina’s arms and rested at her elbows, reluctant to entirely let go of this whole new experience just yet.

 

In a culmination of everything that came before, Regina closed her eyes tightly, biting her lip in what appeared to be frustration. She leant forward so her forehead was pressed against Emma’s in a way that was both slightly aggressive and slightly reluctant.

 

“I’m so sorry, princess…”

 

Regina trembled, like she would cry again, but she didn’t. She moved even closer, or that might have been Emma, so their noses brushed and their breathing mingled and neither dared move, the air around them as fragile as glass.

 

“Don’t be.” Regina whispered into the heart of Emma.

 

Then, in the darkness and achingly slowly, Regina’s lips touched Emma’s, like the first spark of a fire in the thickest night.

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not one for explicit detail, so I hope this satisfies. It's better to be safe than sorry, and I really didn't want to ruin it...

Regina Mills had become Queen Regina, wife of Kind Leopold when she was eighteen years old.

 

At eighteen she had stood motionless and emotionless as dozens of seamstresses, like ants, swarmed around her, stitching and pinning and pulling the white fabric that trapped her. At eighteen she had walked slowly, the weight of her dress and her future dragging her down, towards the end of the aisle. At eighteen her mother had sold her to royalty, and she had bound herself to it through a few simple words and a ring. At eighteen, she had experienced the terror of an unwanted wedding night.

 

The bed she fell upon was as soft and swallowing as it had been then. The cloaking darkness of night was the same. The weight above her was the same, as was the pounding of her heart, the rushing of her blood, the twisting of her stomach.

 

However, she would _never_ compare that hideous night that still creeps across her nightmares to this.

 

She’d lost track of time. She didn’t remember moving at all, but she was suddenly horizontal and something inside was screaming at her, telling her that this was dangerous, _so dangerous_ , and vulnerability was weakness, and weakness was danger. It took a moment for her to realise that the “something” had taken the voice of Emma Swan.

 

_Emma Swan…_

Because the weight wasn’t the same; it wasn’t aggressive or frightening, it was soft and tough in all the right places and the touches were ghosts, testing the water, tender and gentle and not the least bit threatening. The bed didn’t trap her; it welcomed her. The night wasn’t crushing; it was lulling. Her heart wasn’t thudding in fear; it was anticipation and thrill and something altogether new.

 

Emma Swan kissed like she lived; committed and wild and thorough and firm. There was something rogue in the taste of her; feral and natural and endearing, and like the forest she was so familiar with, the Queen got lost in her at some point, and blonde hair felt like the softest anchor and the thief’s practiced hands moved from her face down to her waist, and burned marks against her skin. It was suddenly too warm, and the flush of her cheeks spread to her entire body, causing her to shiver against the silk sheets.

 

The fact that Emma was a woman briefly flitted through her mind. After a second of consideration, she came to the conclusion that she didn’t care even a little bit. She knew herself, well she thought she did, and she knew Emma, well…she thought she did. She knew that some thought it unnatural, and she knew that she was more than a bit shocked at this outcome. She knew this, and it made no difference.

 

The horizon narrowed, and the air was heavier, both struggling to drag enough into their lungs. Regina felt the flamed heat of Emma’s hands on the skin of her thighs, and poured as much of her energy into her kiss to avoid a magical outburst that would inevitably destroy the room. She briefly felt a little awkward in her inexperience, a sensation that swiftly passed with the teeth and tongue on her neck, sliding sensually down to the hollow of her collarbone.

 

She let herself be undressed, and pulled at Emma’s clothing until the blonde got the message. The silence was still palpable, emotions and worries and fears and experiences swirling in the space between them. The Queen watched at the thief’s gaze swept over her, and her eyes were like caves of glittering exhilaration.

 

There was something undeniably tender in the way Emma touched her skin, a softness to the way she pressed down onto her, the way she placed deliberate, lingering kisses on her throat. Somewhere irrelevant at that point, Regina was terrified. A word, a term, a commitment, an emotion, brimmed so close to the surface that she was painfully aware of its existence but still uncertain, and it rang through her mind as she met wide green eyes that looked down at her with lust, and something akin to wonder. She wouldn’t deny herself this. She wouldn’t retreat back into her shell. The tension was too much, this indescribable ache in her very being, like her whole body was a coiled spring. Her grip on Emma’s waist was severe, clinging on for dear life, and whenever Emma drew back even a fraction, she followed instinctively, like they were tethered. She finally felt like she fit into this world of doubles.

 

A flock of birds flew past the window as Emma’s kisses drifted down her chest. Shadows flickered in the corners of the room, making the thief’s skin glow as golden as her hair, and Regina’s eyes slid shut, the blonde’s image imprinted on her retina. Emma found herself slowly but surely addicted to the taste of Regina; the sweep of her neck and smooth skin of her breast and the heat between her thighs as the wind howled and the embers trembled along with the Queen. The palace was a vast infinity of emptiness as Regina gasped and whimpered into stifling air, her fingers going from sifting through blonde curls to tangled firmly in them. The ache in the pit of her stomach got worse, and this was all new to her, an invigorating, thrilling, maddening kind of bliss, something she never reached with Daniel and was never even offered with the King. Her spine arched off the bed and her eyes slammed shut against the world and her gasps started to sound more and more like the blonde’s name.

 

Emma was torn between victory and dread. She had no idea what the implications of this were, but they weren’t good. In fact, she had likely just made everything infinitely more complicated and difficult, but she couldn’t have found the strength to stop herself even if she had genuinely wanted to. There was a smugness to her thought pattern as she briefly recalled the siren’s taunts, but they were chased away by desperation; to please, to feel, to worship every detail of the beautiful body beneath her. She knew she was a slave to Regina’s looks, her lust had slowly driven her mad ever since she first put that name to the burning behind her eyes and boiling of her stomach, but this was tinged with something else. The scorch that Regina’s touch left on her hips, her chest, her stomach, didn’t only sear, but warmed. There was a worrying tenderness to their kisses; no longer flagrant and desperate, but deep and heated as tongues clashed and lips pleaded.

 

Emma decided she had waited too long, and soon was kissing down the Queen’s stomach and then lower and lower until she had the brunette pleading and writhing beneath her. Regina felt her entire being seize up, like her blood had turned to stone, then relax and explode in the most incredible way, lights popping and muscles tensing and sounds getting caught in a throat that had forgotten how to speak. She’d never felt anything like it; it was like pure white magic was supposed to be, the sort she had never been able to conjure, tinged with an utter hopelessness that she tried so hard to resent.

 

It was something of the soul that night, something that hours of entangled limbs and entangled tongues enforced again and again. They had always been stubborn; both refusing to say anything, even when the words were choking them, trying to force their way out to put a label to this, to make sense of what currently didn’t. Regina could feel a hum under the pad of her fingertips when she traced the hard lines of muscle on the blonde’s stomach, the dip of her hips and the warmth further down, her power crackling and responding to the shared adrenalin and euphoria. She thought she could perhaps tear the castle down at that moment if she wanted to.

 

The fire burned down, like the heat was being transferred from it directly into the room’s occupants. Emma’s hands slid firmly into dark hair, grounding herself to familiarity as she gasped against Regina’s shoulder. Purple-red bruises blossomed on pale skin in the wake of teeth, and Regina grew in confidence with every set of lines drawn down her back.

 

It was slightly clumsy, and certainly strange, and both knew somewhere that they had willingly made things so unnecessarily difficult that the rest of the trip would be a whole new level of unusual, but the tension in the Queen’s shoulders seeped away and the worries buzzing in the back of the blonde’s mind quietened to imperceptibility.

 

Regina pressed delicate kisses to Emma’s throat as toned arms tightened around her, something sombre and slightly mournful in the tangible shift in them both.

 

The Queen and the thief fell asleep firmly wrapped up in each other.

 

 

 


	38. Chapter 38

When Emma woke up, her arm was cold.

 

Uncomfortably cold, more so than the rest of her body. She blinked heavy eyelids open and realized why it felt so unnatural.

 

She lay alone, wrapped haphazardly in the sheets, as normal. She was entirely bare; less normal. She wasn’t in her own room; downright odd.

 

Then she remembered.

 

At first a smug, amused, embarrassingly thrilled grin broke out across her face. She felt oddly proud of herself and yet also exceedingly exposed. She saw that the arm, the cold one, was peppered with delicate red marks.

 

Then, she realized that, despite what had happened, she was still alone in bed.

 

She sat up, sheets pooling around her waist, and blinked in the morning light that streamed through the windows; the curtains hadn’t been drawn the night before. The day was a clear one; patched with a flurry of white clouds but otherwise pleasant. The room was vast and clean and welcoming and….

 

…Empty.

 

Had she made a mistake? Had _they_ made a mistake, and Regina had realized it soon after waking? Had she run away? Had she ruined the delicate balance that they had created from day two through a moment, a _night_ , of weakness?

 

She heard movement from the adjoining washroom, and froze out of habit. Her heart was pounding, like it did when she hid among the comforting envelopment of the forest, and she was scared in exactly the same way; the trepidation of a rabbit that can feel the wolf prowling near.

 

She pulled the sheets up to cover herself as footsteps approached the main room and Regina emerged, treading carefully, presumably to avoid disturbing Emma. She reached the dressing table and retrieved her diamond bracelet from its smooth surface, slipping it onto a slim wrist and pausing quietly to admire it in the morning light. She glanced up absentmindedly at the bed, then was somewhat startled at the sight that met her.

 

“…good morning.” She said, it was perhaps slightly formal, but the tone was light and a smirk curved full lips.

 

Emma briefly forgot where she was. Regina was dressed casually for the day, and the crimson of her riding dress set off her colouring so well that Emma stared a little. Then she came to her senses.

 

“Yeah, good morning.” She replied a little hesitantly.

 

“I figured if we were going to leave this morning, I ought to get ready as soon as possible, seen as you always complain about how long I take.”

 

“Yes well you always insist on lacing yourself into one of those torture devices and fixing your hair as if you’re going to court.”

 

Regina rolled her eyes. “No I don’t you just overreact. I haven’t been living in the woods for years.”

 

“No you haven’t, but you have for the past few weeks and I must say you’ve adapted rather poorly in those areas.”

 

Regina sighed, but there were traces of a smile round her lips. Emma’s eyes unfocussed somewhat wistfully.

 

“You’d better follow my lead. The servants said they’re readying the horses.”

 

With that, Regina swayed back into the washroom.

 

Emma breathed out a sigh of relief. Things evidently hadn’t changed too drastically. In fact, the conversation has been as they always had been before. She thought this was a good direction to move it; they had too many things to worry about to add more distractions over the top.

 

She certainly didn’t feel the same though.

 

Slinking back to her own room, she pulled on her clothes and packed her satchel with the bare essentials, gathering anything else she might need for saddlebags. She slid on her soft, worn boots and slipped her dagger into its usual place.

 

“Ready?”

 

She glanced up and caught Regina’s gaze. Her hair was tied out of the way, and the glow about her was surely too potent to be a figment of Emma’s imagination. Something inside her trembled slightly.

 

“Yes. Let’s go.”

 

They made their way downstairs, elephant in the room still pointedly ignored. Lord Maurice awaited them in his drawing room, and when the pair of servant entered the room to inform him, leaving the two women outside, Regina moved her hand ever-so-subtly until it brushed the back of Emma’s, and then linked their little fingers together. Emma fought back a blush, berating this childishness, but reciprocated the contact, only to break away when the great heavy doors swung open.

 

Lord Maurice sat in his usual chair, gazing out of the window, and then struggling to his feet to shake both women warmly by the hand.

 

“It’s been a pleasure, both of you. The horses are prepared and ready for your departure. Are you certain you do not want an escort? You would be better defended?”

 

He’d offered out of politeness, but Emma simply couldn’t put their host’s reputation into any danger by accepting and branding him as treasonous should his men be discovered escorting the “kidnapped” Queen.

 

“We will be alright on our own, I’m sure. Besides, you’ve done more than I could have hoped for. The debt is entirely paid, and we’re both very grateful.” She leaned in closer to avoid two pairs of prying ears hovering by the door, waiting for fresh orders. “I will try to return your daughter to you. If I fail, it is because I have died.”

 

Lord Maurice nodded grimly. “Thank you, Miss Swan. I hope you manage to rescue your son.” He turned to Regina. “And you, your majesty, I hope you find whatever it is you are looking for. I had no idea you disliked life with the King so much, and therefore think it perfectly reasonable for you to try and leave. Good luck.”

 

They thanked him again, and received an open invitation to return whenever they wished, but as they bid him farewell and walked towards the stables, Emma noted that his tired eyes had revealed that when he next saw them again, he hoped desperately that it was with his now fully-grown daughter.

 

As they rode out of the city, a sense of fear and finality descended on Emma. This was it; all the stalling and fighting and hiding and dying was all culminating in the next few days. Her leg was fully healed, her mind clear and body healthy, and they’d spent so long running around chasing smoke and stories that she’d sometimes forgotten that the journey had a purpose, and that at the end of this long road, sat her son, six years old and scared and sacred. He was so close the mental image she had of him grew stronger with every beat of the horses’ hooves. She could die. The Dark One could be too much for her, and she could be killed on the steps of his castle with her child screaming for her inside.

 

As they rode along a path Lord Maurice had suggested, shrouded by undergrowth but still direct and with Emma noticeably more comfortable on this smaller, sturdier, more docile beast, she glanced across at Regina. Her Queen. Her saviour. Her burden. Her…

 

She had no idea any more.

 

 _She_ could die.

 

This expedition. This trial. This _quest_. It could kill them both. After everything she’s been through to finally taste freedom, Regina could fall at the final hurdle. She might die in pain, fighting for a child she’s never met. Emma might see her fall. Emma might have to watch.

 

Emma certainly would have caused it.

 

Something akin to doubt turned in her gut. She’d seen her destination and never wavered from it, but now, since things got _complicated_ , she faltered in her tracks. Could she watch her die? Could she lead her to a place where the chance of injury was so high? Could she put Regina in a position where she was vulnerable and in massive amounts of danger? Could she ask her to give her life for Emma’s stolen son?

 

She wasn’t sure she could.

 

“We could go, you know.” Her ponderings broke the silence.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“We could leave. We could get on a boat and sail far away. I could find others, I could build up a strength and rescue my son when I have an army behind me. It needn’t be just me, you and some unpredictable magic.”

 

Regina let out a short, sharp burst of laughter.

 

Emma frowned. “What?”

 

Regina shook her head. She looked as if she’d just caught someone out trying to play a trick on her.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Not after everything. I started this quest out of necessity, it now feels like a duty, and frankly, if you didn’t go, I probably still would.” She thought of her goal, how she’d always needed one and how she’d finally found one worth following through.

 

Emma swallowed, trying in vain to dislodge the lump in her throat.

 

“We could die.”

 

“And your son _will_. He’ll die cold and alone in a castle that isn’t his home with a man who isn’t his parent. He’ll die unloved. We’re going to get him, Emma.”

 

It was then that Emma came to the abrupt realisation that she was debating which mattered more to her; the happiness of Henry or the safety of Regina. It was a thought pattern that was certainly unexpected.

 

Emma smiled softly and nodded. “You’re right. I just…I dunno…I wanted to give you a choice…”

 

Regina looked over at her and frowned slightly, then smirked and came to the odd conclusion that saviours were not just princes and stable boys, it doesn’t matter what form they come in, but Emma wanted to get her somewhere safe, somewhere where she needn’t fear her own shadow, or worse someone else’s on her bedroom wall. Emma was saving her, and they both knew this, and it was clear that Emma was reluctant to discount that fact by putting her in danger. Regina was both flattered, and a little offended that Emma still insisted that she needed protection.

 

“…I was thinking…if – _when_ we get Henry back…you might want to…I don’t know, _stay_ –“

 

“I have nowhere to go.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You’re the only person I trust.”

 

 _Trust?_ My, they’d come so far.

 

“I know.”

 

“Please don’t leave me out in the woods with no idea where to go.”

 

Emma chuckled quietly.

 

“As you wish, princess.”

 

 


	39. Chapter 39

Regina loved how the air tasted out there.

 

She couldn’t put her finger on what it was that made the atmosphere so crisp and fresh, probably the abundance of plants, but she could feel it swirling round the back of her throat, prickling her vocal chords and catching at the back of her tongue. It didn’t matter where she went; it was all the same. When her and Emma travelled across the swamplands along their shortcut route, the air tasted of stagnant water and blowflies, when they had travelled through towns in the past it had tasted of excrement, ale and leather, when they walked along a river it tasted like water reeds and fish, and every single instance was like the finest wine to her. It was fresh air, _open_ air, freedom, and nothing had ever tasted better.

 

The journeying was tense and tough, not least because of her undefined nature of her relationship with her guide. The whole kingdom was crawling with Royal Guard as the King continued to up the desperation to find his missing queen. In the four days it took them to travel across to their destination, Emma pulled Regina behind an outcrop or some other convenient natural feature (or not-so-convenient, when they both had to crouch behind a single spindly tree for a good half an hour on day two) around twice a day. They ate what they killed and picked, they drank what they found, they slept where they fell.

 

Emma had come to the abrupt realisation that if they were going to continue with their quest, the risk of death was high. It was a risk she had accepted a while ago, but she had never expected to have to come to terms with the fact that Regina was in danger. For this reason, and Regina’s unwavering determination to push forwards (a relief to Emma, if she was honest), she didn’t let herself fall into anything that would make that potential death an agonising loss. She kept her hands to herself, she kept her eyes where they should be, her mind on the present, and herself in general friendly, but somewhat distant from Regina where possible. It was difficult, of course, the woman was insufferable. She occasionally _still_ wanted to strangle her, despite everything, and their bickering became only slightly less frequent, but they’d walk at night to stay on schedule, and the stars would prick fireflies in Regina’s awe-widened eyes, and darkness would smooth the curve of her neck and sharpen the sweep of her cheekbones and Emma would have to bite the inside of her cheek and dig her nails into her palms to stop her from doing something she’d regret and _why hadn’t she picked a less enchanting companion?_

 

She also realized that the two of them were a strange complement. It wasn’t just her beauty. Something in Regina’s very presence, her being, spoke to Emma in a way she had never expected. The humour and sarcasm in a scathing remark she threw at Emma, the way it made her smile because Regina _was_ funny, she was entertaining, she was interesting, she was _clever_ , though still overall ignorant of forest-dwelling ways, she was brilliant in many ways, and subtly caring, though she hated to admit that. She was a person, full and developed and a little warped, but fascinating in her uniqueness and quiet eccentricity. Even the hidden self-loathing that sometimes crept into her sentences made this ache inside Emma stronger, the ache she thought had left that night in Regina’s room. It hadn’t. It had gotten twice as heavy, but in a comforting, rewarding sort of way, like there was more of her, like she was more grounded and real and her experiences were heightened now. She couldn’t get enough of it, and she was almost certain Regina was the same from the way she would spend minutes staring sideways at Emma’s lips as they walked, when she thought the blonde hadn’t noticed.

 

The travelling was gruelling, and having been subject to all the comforts of the aristocracy over the previous few days, both women were soon missing warm baths and feather beds where they then had to deal with cold streams and hard forest floor. There was a relief present as well, like the events of Lord Maurice’s castle combined with the feeling of once more being back on the road, a set destination ahead, had sighed out all the tension. The journey was bleak and uncomfortable, but there was something refreshing about lying next to Emma instead of facing away from her, having her turn towards her slightly in her sleep, having a scathing comment rebutted with a sideways smirk. Yes, Regina would definitely count herself happy, a circumstance that came as a total shock to her, especially considering her situation.

 

The journey ended, however.

 

They hadn’t spoken in a while. The day was young and they didn’t want to waste energy on pointless conversation. Emma hauled herself the brow of a hill, Regina in tow, and stood at the peak, observing the sight before her.

 

A castle of black stone and spindly turrets stood out starkly against the green scenery. The building itself seem to draw the darkness towards it, the huge rusty gates as tall as the trees closely surrounding it. Regina, halting behind the blonde, took a sharp breath in. The place was huge, swallowing the nature around it. Dead, blackened ivy clung to its towering walls, the grass nearby was cracking and colourless, and the castle seemed to squat in its surroundings, not cowering, but crouching in wait.

 

“I, um, suppose that’s it then?”

 

Emma nodded mutely. Regina put her hands on her hips and took the view in with a growing sense of dread at the seriousness of what she had agreed to. This was it. All this time spent battling the elements and avoiding the military. All the time spent fighting for her life and fighting with her companion, and this is what it had been building to. There was no going back now.

 

“We should…we should rest…”

 

“No, Emma, we’re here now. There’s no use putting it off or we might lose the element of surprise, especially if he’s as powerful as you say.”

 

Emma stretched her back, hearing it crack into place. Dread and something like anticipation swirled in her stomach. The Queen had a point.

 

“Ok. We’ll gather our strength for a short while, then we’ll just go. This is it, princess, we don’t want to be exhausted.”

 

Regina simply nodded, and followed Emma down the other side of the hill. Every step she took was measured and loaded with a unique feeling of nearing her fate. She could die within the next few hours, and she felt this fact radiating through the soft ground and up into her boots with every footfall.

 

The pair crouched in the copse, finishing what food they had and catching their breath, adrenalin beginning to kick in so neither felt particularly tired. Silence fell, and Regina on an impulse slipped her diamond bracelet off her wrist.

 

“You kept this for me. The day you saved my life, you took this from my captors and then returned it to me.”

 

Emma was quiet for a moment, then replied. “Yes. I did.”

 

Regina stared at her, solemnly contemplating the twist of events that had brought her there, then rose from where she had been sitting. She bent down, swiftly and softly kissed Emma on the cheek, much to the shock of the thief, then headed off into the trees. She knelt down and contemplated the piece of jewellery, admiring its glittering stones and running gentle fingertips across it. She then scraped away the top layer of the soft earth beneath her, mud sticking beneath fingernails, and placed the bracelet in the small indent she’d made, then covered it up again, patting down the surface and scattering a few small rocks over it. Convinced that it was entirely unnoticeable, she sighed deeply, then returned to Emma’s side, who looked at her softly, but with a hint of confusion. Neither woman said anything.

 

They both steeled themselves for the fight to come.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of the beginning of the end. Thanks for sticking with it and being so encouraging!

“Right, so are we clear on the plan?”

 

Regina crouched low in the undergrowth, the dress taken from Lord Maurice’s castle infinitely more practical than her previous one, although she thought she might soon regret vehemently refusing to wear trousers as Emma did. The blonde leaned close, whispering forcefully, as they hid among the forest mere yards away from the gates of the castle. Regina’s heart was racing, her palms were sweating, she swallowed hard and wet her lips. She didn’t want to admit that she was nervous. More than nervous; she was scared beyond her wits.

 

“Yes. I go to the door, try to enter without being detected, while you go round the back. I’m to work my way through the castle, he’s likely to be in the dungeons, and if I come across the owner, I’m to try and hold him off while you get your son before he knows you’re in the castle.”

 

Emma nodded. “Your magic is stronger than I’ve ever seen, and getting stronger. You can defend yourself, Regina, you just need to go out on a limb and believe it, and…and you – you should be fine.” Emma faltered slightly, breaking eye contact and glancing at the ground, as if ashamed. “I’m – I’m gonna be honest; he’s powerful, potentially the most powerful in the kingdom. His magic is strong and he’s cunning and manipulative, and it won’t be easy, but you needn’t defeat him, you just need to hold him off and keep him distracted long enough for Henry and I to reach you and the three of us, four if we find Lord Maurice’s daughter, can get out as quickly as possible. I can’t promise he won’t pursue, but it’s our best hope.”

 

Regina nodded solemnly. She steeled herself, forcing her stomach to stop flipping over and her head swimming; she’d need to keep a clear mind.

 

“Hey, princess, we don’t have to do this –“

 

“I told you; we have to. You’ve waited long enough, and I _want_ to help. I agreed to this, and you’ve held up your end of the bargain. I’m going to see this through; successful or not.”

 

“Regina, you could well die –“

 

“Yes I know.” The Queen turned to look at the thief; at last her equal. “We’ve been through this.” She closed her eyes and nodded again. “It’s about time I do something worthwhile. Death doesn’t scare me anymore…” _Especially since I spent so long begging for it…_

Emma bit her lip and nodded to herself. She’d had time to process this, and accept it. They both knew the risks…

 

Emma rose from where she was crouching, and Regina followed, both looking with trepidation at the gate ahead.

 

“No point in stalling, it’s already getting dark.”

 

“Ok.”

 

The two turned to look at each other, breathing softly in the evening.

 

“Thank you, Regina. I…I can’t thank you enough…”

 

“You needn’t. You saved me more times than one, you helped me when no one else would. I’m happy to help you get your son back.”

 

Emma looked down and scuffed the ground with her boot. “I didn’t expect…I didn’t expect any of this…”

 

Regina smiled ironically. “No, neither did I.” Regina thought about the first time she’d seen Emma; sharpening a stick to a point, leaning against a tree, cool as ice and fiery as a furnace, dismissive and persuasive and rather awe-inspiring in her strength. Emma thought about the first time she’d seen Regina; dizzy with her unexpected, amazing ability, staring in astonishment at the clearing littered with the bodies of those who had been attacking her, this beautiful and delicate-looking unstoppable force of magic. No: not expected at all.

 

Emma leaned towards her slightly, then halted, uncertain. Regina decided to reassure her in her emotional display, and moved to embrace her. Emma pulled the Queen close and buried her face in the dark hair falling over her shoulder, Regina breathed in deeply.

 

When they broke apart there was a very palpable _something_ hovering in the air between them, but no, there was too much at stake, too much to lose if that barrier was breached, too much then to risk in a mission that could end either one of them.

 

“Try not to die, princess…please…”

 

Regina smiled softly and nodded, a lump forming in her throat.

 

“Same to you, Swan.”

 

Before she could do anything stupid or embarrassing or personal, Emma touched Regina’s arm lightly, then nodded once more and took off towards the outer borders of the house, sprinting silently through the undergrowth towards the back entrance, leaving Regina quite alone, watching her every retreating move, and wondering if the memory of her lips would be enough to keep her going in life should something go wrong here.

 

Walking up to the gates was a feat in itself; her legs were shaking so badly it was difficult to simply remain upright. She stopped at the wrought iron and shook herself somewhat, remembering the trembling scrap of a child that was buried somewhere in the gloomy establishment’s bowels. _Be brave, Regina, for once in your life._

Knowing that if she were in his position, she would have put an enchantment on the gates that alerted the castle’s owner of unwanted visitors, Regina focused her magical energy on her physical presence, willing it to be more pliant in the way she had been teaching herself for a few years now. A purple smoke cloud filled her vision, and to her faint surprise and pride, she found herself on the other side of the gate, having transported herself through the bars.

 

Instantly alert, and conscious of being slightly fatigued after using magic in so precise and difficult a way, she hurried through the overgrown garden, if the tangled mess of weeds, bushes and small trees could be called that, and felt dread creep up her spine as the castle loomed closer and closer.

 

She had no idea what to expect from this man. She thought in hindsight she should have quizzed Emma more for details on the man whose house they were storming, who Emma claimed was possibly the most dangerous man in the Kingdom. Regina knew nothing of him apart from his strong magical ability and that he was nicknamed “the Crocodile” apparently. This unsettled her even more.

 

She was soon hurrying up the cracked stone steps to the ancient-looking front door, a large brass doorknocker shaped like a lion with a spear through its head growled out at her from the weathered wood. She pressed herself against cold stone and caught her breath, pulling leaves and twigs out of her hair and a small branch made almost entirely of thorns from where it was buried in the material of her skirt. Her pulse was thudding in her throat like the hooves of a horse, and her mind raced from one option to another as she thought of her next move.

 

She touched a hand to the wall, sensing the weight and thickness of the old stone. No, she couldn’t travel through solid rock; the result was likely to be messy. Pressing her lips together, she saw only one way in; the front door.

 

She slipped round to face the door and braced herself, pressing her ear to the wood and hearing no movement on the other side. Gathering her magic into the front of her very pores, she saw no other option but to try to simply walk in. She squared her shoulders, grasped the rusty handle and pulled. Locked; of course it was. The lock seemed heavy duty and strong, but not particularly complicated. She’d broken out of her room at the palace at night enough times to have the art practiced. She placed her palm over the metal and channelled her magic through her skin, feeling the lock heat up with her hand. Soon the lock was melted and warped enough for a short sharp twist to the side to open the door, and she pulled it open just enough for her to slip quickly and silently inside into the enclosing darkness.

 

 


	41. Chapter 41

The hallway was the hazy kind of dark that came from keeping the curtains closed for most of the time. Regina squinted, peering into the room. Its lofty ceilings were strung with cobwebs, but all ancient-looking furniture was well polished, and the snob inside Regina couldn’t help noting the appalling taste of whoever had designed the place.

 

Her footsteps echoed horribly, and she winced at every creak of floorboard. The place was eerily still, so huge the owner could be anywhere, but he evidently wasn’t aware of her presence. Either that or he was taking his time and playing his cards. She wondered how Emma was faring. Perhaps the plan had gone upside down and _she_ was the distraction. What if he found Emma first? Would Regina have to get the child out? Should _she_ head down to the basement too?

 

She was faced with four doors branching off the hallway. Her skin was crackling with defensive magic as she held her guard. She felt suddenly exposed in the cavernous room and made her way hastily towards the first door. The old hinges groaned when she gently pushed it open.

 

A ballroom. Disused for years by the looks of it. Dust coated the floor and a grimy grey sheet covered what she assumed was a chandelier, hanging from the ceiling. The walls were intricately muralled, and the windows were mostly boarded up. It looked like it was once a magnificent room, but dilapidation had got the better of it. She backed out into the hallway again.

 

Regina hovered in front of door two. She was acutely conscious of the lack of defenses. She had most likely bypassed a protective enchantment on the gate, and the lock on the front door would have been virtually impenetrable to anyone without the ability of magic, but either the owner greatly underestimated his enemies, or there was more danger ahead. Regina would have bet money on the latter.

 

The second door was firmly locked. She could not see any light coming from under it and when she peered through the keyhole, all she could see was black. She assumed storage; why else would you keep doors locked within your own home?

 

She grasped the handle of the third door then immediately drew her hand away, gasping and fighting down screams as the flesh on her hand puckered and blistered from the heat that had come out of nowhere. She flexed her hand, willing the pain to dissipate and glared at the knob, now looking innocent enough. Her palm was reddening, and the tender bumps of budding blisters dotted her skin, but the shock had been worse than the actual injury and she didn’t have time to stand around and heal herself when she needed her energy for protection.

 

Moving to the other door, she found it unlocked and sloping slightly upwards into a long hallway. She started forward, then paused, thinking. This corridor was unblocked, unprotected, whereas the other door had had time spent on enchanting it to burn any stranger who tried to open it, she assumed. This felt decidedly like a trap, and she was hesitant to charge headlong into it.

 

Returning to the previous door, she squinted at the handle. She presumed that it knew she wasn’t supposed to be going through it, and so stood back and thought for a moment. She had expected a mad rush to retrieve a terrified six year old, not a mentally and intellectually challenging puzzle to solve as quietly as she could.

 

Deciding suddenly to discard ideas of subtlety and realising that time was likely of the essence, she threw caution to the wind and took a sizeable step back, channeling her power from the protective layer over her skin to the forefront of her mind and focusing on the door. A muscle in her jaw twitched irritatingly, but she was so charged and fizzling on high alert that it took less effort than she thought it would to blast the door off its hinges. She winced at the sound, quieter than she had expected, but still a small explosion and, glancing quickly around hurried through the doorframe and into the room.

 

This was her first mistake.

 

The room she was in was bigger than the hall, and when she looked back, the various pieces of charred wood that had a moment ago been the door drew together and reformed in a matter of seconds, slotting back into place with a jarring thud. She froze as the sound echoed round the huge room; huge and _empty_ room.

 

She only had time to process a high-pitched, bone-chilling cackle before the room seem to bulge and shrink slightly in a nauseating manner and a figure appeared in a torrent of black smoke.

 

OoOoO

 

It took one smashed window pane, followed by a bloody hand and thigh during the preceding wriggled crawl through the tiny space, one fall that was higher than expected onto hard, abrupt stone, one lungful of air that was mostly dust and one disorientating smack to the head from a too-low ceiling beam for Emma to break her way into the Dark One’s castle.

 

She’d snuck her way surreptitiously into a broom cupboard. It had taken several lengths up and down the back of the house to find the frankly _miniscule_ window, which in itself had taken a good thump to smash. She was honestly surprised to find herself alone and not confronted by the dark wizard.

 

The door complained as she shuffled her way into the darkness of the underground corridor. She realized she had brought nothing with which to light her way, not to mention the fact she had no idea where she was going. As was the way with notorious Emma Swan, she went with her gut, and followed the passage to her right, twisting off into the catacombs under the castle, something in her lower stomach tugging her uncomfortably in that direction.

 

She held one hand against the slimy damp stone of the wall so as to keep herself somewhat grounded, but the corridor had a significant lack of doors. She though of Regina somewhere above her, hopefully still undiscovered, hopefully still uninjured… _hopefully still alive_. No, she wouldn’t think that way. Regina was capable, powerful as anything she’d ever seen, she could look after herself…Emma hoped…Emma hoped desperately…

 

_No. Focus. Worrying won’t help her, and I have a son to find._

 

Having shuffled her way a significant distance down the dingy corridor, the smell of rot clinging to the back of her throat, her boot suddenly hit something protruding out of the floor and she tripped. She fell with a rattling jolt onto what proved to be a staircase, stubbing her shin against hard stone and wincing at the impact. Pushing herself hastily to her feet and shaking the blood off the hand that had been cut by glass in the breaking of the window, she scrambled up the stairs.

 

She felt the cold dissipating as she reached the door at the top of the staircase. She was above ground again. She slinked through the door and into daylight streaming through small windows in the walls of the corridor that curved round to her left. She felt her heart once more thudding in her throat as she hurried along it.

 

The place was a goddamn labyrinth. She was sure that she was running in circles, opening identical doors on every corridor and returning to a room that looked distinctly like the one two doors before. When she entered a room she was sure she’d been in at least three times, she growled in frustration, storming up to every door and yanking it open, then returning to stand in the middle of the floor, turning slowly and looking into every adjoining room, determined to break this limbo.

 

Every room looked the same.

 

_Magic, surely…_

 

She felt her throat close up. She had no idea how much time had elapsed, but the running around, not to mention the feeling of being _so close_ , had drained her, and tears pooled in her eyes before she could stop them. Time was running out. She didn’t even want to think about Regina…

 

She sighed and sagged against the wall, her energy leaving her, and sighed heavily.

 

“…Henry… _please Henry…”_ she choked out.

_We were supposed to be happy…_

_We should have been happy…_

_That’s all I’ve ever wanted anyway…_

“…Is…is someone there?”

 

A tiny voice. She might have missed it what with her racing pulse, but her keen ears picked it up.

 

So small and scared and cracked and young.

 

Coming from _that exit there_.

 

_This could be a trap, Swan._

She followed the path the voice had left, tiptoeing across the room and peering into the room. It was cluttered, shelves piled high with everything from old books, to plant pots, to buckets and candlesticks. But _there_ , buried away against the far wall… _another door_ …

 

She approached cautiously, swallowing the lump in her throat. Her heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of her chest, tugging at her ribcage. Her many years as a thief had rendered her footfalls virtually silent, and when she reached the door, she placed her bloody palm against the wood, as if she could feel a human presence through it.

 

After a minute of stillness, she could barely stand it. She pressed the side of her head to the door, her ear straining and her skin prickling. She almost missed it again.

 

A sob. A miniscule, smothered sob of hopelessness. It crept through the crack around the door and sparked an instinct in Emma she hadn’t even realised existed.

 

_This could still be a trap…_

 

_Fuck it._

“Yes…yes there is someone here…”

 

The moment lasted forever; an endless chasm of silence while she waited for her fate. Either direction would have torn at her soul.

 

“…Who are you?”

 

She swallowed and took a shuddering breath in.

 

“…A saviour…”

 

A sniffle and small, muffled footsteps approached the door and Emma took a step back, bracing herself.

 

“What’s that?”

 

Her eyes slid shut and tears slipped down her cheeks, hot and unstoppable. If this was a rouse, it was a good one.

 

“…It means I’m going to help. Who are you?”

 

Silence met her for a moment or two.

 

“…I’m trapped. I’m a prisoner, he says. I think you said my name. Did you say my name?”

 

“Is your name Henry?”

 

“Yes it is. That’s what he calls me anyway. Well, not very often.”

 

More tears spilled over blurred eyes and joined the steady stream as her heart bled.

 

_My child…please be my child…I’ve waited too long…please…_

“Can I see you, Henry? Will you open the door?”

 

“No. The door doesn’t open. The door never opens unless he is here. Once he left it open by mistake…but never again…”

 

“Oh…” is all she could manage.

 

“There’s a little hole though. It’s down near the bottom.”

 

She crouched down automatically and inspected the wood. It was old, cracking, and yes, there was a small knot that had been pushed out, about the size of her eye. She peered through it.

 

Her own forest green eye was reflected back at her.

 

For a moment she couldn’t move, rooted to the spot with shock and relief and fear and suspicion, caught in the identical gaze, filled with identical wonder and worry.

 

“…Henry?”

 

“Uh huh?” He sounded scared, as if hardly daring to believe what was happening.

 

“I’m going to get you out. Stand back.”

 

She heard him retreating, and she did likewise. Then, she took a running start and threw her entire weight shoulder-first into the door.

 

It didn’t even budge.

 

She did this several times until it became obvious the wood wasn’t going to give, and the thuds and grunts were bound to attract attention soon. Her child was in there. She _knew_ it. The son she was searching for was a few inches of old wood away. She would get to him if it killed her, and it might.

 

She examined the lock. She had picked a few locks in her time, but never something as sturdy and complicated as this. She retrieved a steel tankard from a shelf and started bashing at the lock, the metallic clanging echoing painfully. Inside, the child had begun to sniffle again.

 

The room provided nothing else in the way of aiding her in her task. She took to pulling and hitting the lock, kicking the bottom of the door where the largest crack was, but nothing even scratched the barrier. She was holding back sobs at this point, grunting, practically shouting at the door as she struggled, but it was fruitless.

 

“Don’t worry. I _will_ get you out. I will find a way, don’t be scared.”

 

“…ok…please…please help…” She could hear tears in his tiny voice, so scared by his hope.

 

Exhausted, she rested her forehead against the door, thinking, calculating, _begging_. A hand came out of nowhere and grabbed her shoulder.

 

She acted on instinct, jumping back with a gasp and swinging her fist out, grasping the limb in a vice-like grip.

 

She did not expect to be faced with what then stood before her.

 

A girl. A _young_ girl at that. Younger than both her and Regina. She had an innocent, pale, pretty face, all brown doey eyes and soft pink lips. The shock was painted across delicate features, her dress was simple, like that of a low-born servant, and her hair was messy, but still shining slightly in its golden brown tones. She looked upon Emma with alarm, her hand twitching in her grasp.

 

“Wh-who are you?” The girl asked.

 

Emma knew she didn’t want to answer that question, so swung her body round and crushed the girl up against the wall, raising an arm to her throat, slowly compressing her windpipe.

 

“Nobody. I’m nobody. I’m sorry.”

 

She didn’t want to have to do this, but she had to get her son, there was no alternative. No amount of naïve-looking young girls would stop her.

 

She prepared to press harder, to wince, perhaps even turn away as she forced the breath and life out of this young flower.

 

“I…I can…I can help…the boy…I can help…”

 

Emma halted, and loosened her grip slightly.

 

“You what?”

 

The girl gasped in more air, eyes wide with terror, pupils darting across Emma’s hard face.

 

“The child…I want to help…you...you’re here for him aren’t you?”

 

Emma’s grip loosened even more.

 

“…you want to take him…you do not mean him harm do you?”

 

Emma pressed into her a little once more.

 

“Never. I would _never_ harm him.”

 

The girl’s gaze scanned her face again. She looked uncertain.

 

“I would _die_ before I let anything else happen to him. It’s been six years since I last saw him, six years of wondering and waiting, well I’ve had enough of waiting. I’m taking him today. I’m taking him somewhere safe, well he’ll never be hurt again. Listen to me, I would _never_ hurt my son.”

 

The girl’s eyes widened. “Your…your _son_?”

 

Emma nodded, maintaining her hold.

 

“Let me help. Please, he doesn’t deserve to be here. He’s been waiting for his mother…he _needs_ you…he needs to get out of here…I can help…I have…I have a key…”

 

At the word _key_ , Emma released the girl, her arm dropping, but her stance still defensive.

 

The girl rubbed her throat, drinking in the air, unable to speak.

 

“You have a key? You will help me?”

 

She nodded. “That child has had enough suffering for a lifetime. I was a few days away from breaking him out myself…”

 

Emma let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

 

“Alright. Get him out… _now_ …”

 

The girl nodded, fear still swimming in brown eyes. They had a hollowed quality, like there was a hole in her, like she’d lost something long ago, so much so she had forgotten to be sad about it. It was a look she had seen before. Very recently, in fact.

 

“…Belle?”

 

The girl’s head whipped round from where she’d been rifling through the pockets of her apron.

 

“Belle? Lord Maurice’s daughter?”

 

The girl swallowed and then nodded. “Yes. Yes that’s me. H-how do you know my name?”

 

Emma let a small smile crawl across her tear-stained face. She felt a rush of guilt at the red mark blooming across the girl’s elegant white throat.

 

“Your father…I know him…he was very kind to me. He let me stay with him despite the danger it presented. He healed my wounds and gave me rest before I came here. He spoke of you, he begged me to get you out while rescuing my son if it was possible. And here you both are…”

 

Her face filled with hope, the hole in her eyes shrinking until Emma couldn’t see it anymore.

 

“My _father_?! You have seen him?! He still lives?! The Ogre War did not take him?!”

 

“The War took no one. The deal was struck and the War was won. He speaks of nothing but having you back by his side.”

 

The initial joy on her face was eclipsed by something else, something Emma couldn’t name, but it was similar to the look Hook wore whenever he said goodbye to her before he set off on a long voyage; a desire to go, but a reluctance to leave. Emma wondered at that.

 

“Help me get him out, and I’ll get you _both_ out.”

 

Belle nodded, although it looked more like shaking herself. She found the key; disappointingly small, Emma thought bizarrely.

 

As she slotted it into the lock and turned it, Emma seemed to leave her body for a moment. Everything went oddly silent as the door was unlocked and pulled open.

 

The next thing she knew she was on her knees and pulling a tiny, trembling body towards her. She didn’t even get a look at his face before her nose was buried in his little shoulder, her whole body shaking with sobs and she held him closer and closer, gasping in trembling breaths. He was returning the embracing, his tears wetting her cheek and mingling with her own.

 

She pulled back to take him in. He looked like his father with his button nose and messy brown hair, but his pointed chin and strong jaw and deep green eyes were all her. Yes, there was no mistaking it; he was half hers. No, he was _all_ hers.

 

“You’re…you’re my mother?” He stammered.

 

“Yes. _Yes_. I’m your mother.”

 

She could barely finish her sentence before she was pulling him closer once more, a piece of her heart finally slotting back into place.

 

 


	42. Chapter 42

In a life that now involved one-handed pirates, girls than turn into wolves, a castle operating in perfect symmetry, explosion triggered by the grief of her own heart and kissing girls, Regina had come to accept surprises as they appeared.

 

She wasn’t, however, prepared for what faced her now.

 

_How could she have been so stupid?_

“You?!”

 

“Why, _your majesty_! What an unexpected pleasure! Thought you’d pay me a visit at home, did you?”

 

_Dark magic, most powerful being, never a mention of a name…it all makes sense, you fool._

“Rumpelstiltskin…” Regina trailed off, as realization dawned and dread churned in her stomach. Sinewy and scaly, the Dark One stood before her in all his eerie leather glory, grinning across his face as usual with wide, reptilian eyes.

 

“That’s right! I must say I’m rather surprised to see you here, dearie!”

 

His voice crept across her like hundreds of tiny glass balls cracking and splintering under her skin. She stopped herself from trembling. When she’d agreed to do this, she’d expected to be faced with some kind of huge magic giant or troll, not the one who had taught her everything she knew about magic. She would take the troll any day.

 

Still, there was only one way out.

 

“I must admit, I was rather…disappointed when I heard you were missing…kidnapped, they said, the fools don’t know a thing, do they? You’d abandoned your position and your lessons along with it. You’d turned your spoilt little nose up at me and left without so much as a word, after everything I’ve done for you. It was most rude of you. Almost as rude as breaking into my home unannounced.”

 

Regina said nothing, just scanned the room. He was between her and the door at the other end, and her guess was that he could lock it quicker than she could even think about running to it.

 

“What are you doing here, your majesty?” Some of the mocking playfulness had left his voice, leaving it cold and threatening. She tensed and stood rigid before him. He didn’t need to know that.

 

She kept her silence, shaking her head slightly.

 

He gestured with a scaled hand.

 

“Of course I know why you’re here. You’ve come for the little scrap that’s gathering dust in a perfectly good cellar. No, Regina, _why_ are _you_ here?”

 

She faltered. _He knew_. How?!

 

“I don’t think that’s a particularly useful question at this point.”

 

“On the contrary, I’m fascinated! You’ve never met that child before I think, so why would you care? Who told you? What could you possibly want with—“

 

He broke off, twirling a scaled hand on his wrist in the air, before a look of understanding overtook disturbing features.

 

“You’re after _it_ , aren’t you?! Someone told you about him and you, ungrateful, spoilt little brat you are, wanted it all for yourself! Well, I don’t think so, missy.”

 

His voice lowered to a dangerous register, and she fought hard to keep still where she stood, eyes darting like insects from exit to exit, assessing her best means of escape.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She replied, her words regaining the haughty tone she was fighting to keep there as she straightened her spine and addressed him head on. She had to stall him. She had to give Emma time.

 

“Don’t play dumb with me, you fool. I know all about that boy, that’s why I’m keeping him here, and the only reason you’d look for him is to use him…”

 

He approached steadily, walking confidently and menacingly, although something in the slant of his shoulders was reminiscent of creeping up on something; stalking one’s prey.

 

Regina was intrigued. She wanted to know what was special about Emma’s child now, and thought the best way to learn was to keep ambiguously quiet.

 

Out of nowhere, a sharp pain slashed across her cheekbone. She gasped and raised a hand to the stinging skin, only for it to come away wet and sticky. She felt the throbbing pain of a small but deep gash by her ear, cut by and invisible blade. She trembled as she remembered suddenly how powerful this being was.

 

“Admit it, if you know what’s good for you!” He was close now; close enough to see the flickering, growing anger in unnaturally wide, manic eyes.

 

“Ok, I admit it! I came to use it.” She pulled her sleeve over her wrist and used the material to wipe away the blood trickling down her cheek. The pain made her eyes water.

 

He grinned and it turned her stomach. She thought of poor Henry experiencing this horror every day.

 

He flicked his wrist, and she found herself severely winded, thrown again the wall. She felt something rushing by her, and then started as a three inch blade buried into the fabric of her skirt, brushing her leg, pinning her to the wall. Several more flew at her out of nowhere, each one missing her person by a hairsbreadth, each one pinning her tighter and tighter to the wall, a foot or so off the ground, like a preserved butterfly in an obsessive’s collection.

 

She gasped in air, lungful after lungful as the pressure on each side of her dress pressed the breath out of her chest. Panic gripped her system. She’d faced death before, and she’d accepted the possibility of hers now, but knowing it would be at the hands of The Dark One flared something in her. A tugging in her stomach. A nagging at the back of her mind. She would _not_ be killed by _him_ , her teacher, the one she had turned to when there was nowhere else to go, and the one who, like everyone else, had tormented and belittled her and used her abilities for his own gain. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of killing her.

 

“Now, your majesty.” He advanced on her slowly. “You fled the castle at last. It’s about time, you know, about time you took matters into your own hands. You’re not a child anymore! I felt a kind of…twisted pride…that turned quickly into anger, though: abandonment suits me ill.”

 

She struggled slightly, but, as if sensing her desire for freedom, the blades buried themselves deeps into the wall, pinning her tighter.

 

“And along these…travels of yours….these…excursions into the real world, rather horrid, isn’t it?, you came across someone who informed you of the power I hold prisoner under this roof, didn’t you?”

 

She tensed. The boy? What power did the boy have?

 

“From the moment I saw you, I saw potential. I convinced myself it was potential for greatness, but no; it was potential for ambition, for a desperate grab for power. _You_ want the heart of the truest believer because you think it will give you that?! You fool, Regina! You could have the insides of a thousand trembling little boys and you still wouldn’t be able to come anywhere _near_ me if I did not allow it. You’re delusional and over-confident, just as your mother was. You also share her knack for making powerful and dangerous enemies…”

 

_The heart of the truest believer?_

“I try to avoid making enemies.”

 

He laughed at that: a loud, shallow cackle.

 

“I don’t believe that for one minute! I believe that you consider everyone you meet to be an enemy until they prove otherwise! As your mother does! As I do.”

 

She felt a feral growl rising in the back of her throat at the comparison; she’d evidently spent too long in the forest.

 

“Well, you _certainly_ won’t be successful here! Then again, you should be used to that.” He smirked and spun around, walking away from her.

 

“And I had such high hopes for you, dearie! But it seems your ambition makes you impudent. I don’t do favoritism, and no one enters my house unannounced without suffering the consequences…”

 

A sharp bang echoed throughout the room, and a burning heat bloomed on her shoulder, wrenching a scream from her throat. She turned her head to see blisters bubbling, flesh puckering, skin reddening. A patch of her dress had burned away, blackening round the ragged edges, and a direct heat burn covered her right shoulder. Her vision blurred and shifted in and out of focus, tears streaming from her eyes as she bit her lip and trembled with the effort of forcing herself to stay quiet out of spite. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Her stomach lurched and churned. She thought she might faint.

 

“I simply cannot risk you trying it again…”

 

More pain: searing, burning, agonizing, on the side of her torso above her ribcage. She heard her flesh sizzling, could smell her own blood, a scream wrenched itself from her throat before she could stop it.

 

He just laughed. She thought there would be something dark and evil in his eyes, some sick sadism or blood lust, but there wasn’t. His eyes were filled simply and solely with pure, unadulterated happiness and pleasure.

 

She’d never fully comprehended how mad her was until that moment. How entirely far gone. How entirely beyond help.

 

He was an emotional wreck, the same as her.

 

At this surge of assurance, she felt a blade holding her in place by her left arm wobble. It was like she’d forgotten her ability entirely.

 

She channeled her thoughts from the blinding pain of her new wounds to the blades, concentrating to the point where she was shaking. He threw another burn at her, but it only grazed her hair and gave her a fright, and she powered through. In a matter of moments, the blades trembled and fell to the floor, dropping her down and freeing her.

 

He looked momentarily impressed, then angry. Very, _very_ angry.

 

She felt the air around her stirring, giving her a moment’s warning before he unleashed the storm, allowing her the time to drag a heavy mahogany table from the side of the room and use it as a barricade. The racing of her heart, the throbbing of her burns, the adrenalin zooming through her made the magic gesture second nature. Her power improved under tense circumstances. She was unlikely to have ever been stronger than at this point. She could stand a chance. She could escape with her life.

 

She threw her whole strength, physical and magical, into holding the table between her and Rumpelstiltskin. She felt the room vibrating as he threw god-knows-what at her, the air crackling and the ground shaking. He was jeering and shouting manically, taunting her at the top of his voice, although she couldn’t make out what he was saying. She could hear her pulse pounding in her head, her vision switching from bright and powerful to darkening and fading and lethargic. She raised a hand to her shoulder and winced as she pressed it on her wound, crying out pitifully, but narrowed her mind and healed the burn somewhat, just enough that she could move her arm with only discomfort.

 

She steeled herself, and leapt up, conjuring fire and sending it streaming towards her tormentor. He looked shocked, but brushed it aside with ease. That made her angry. She’d spent years practicing the art the way _he_ taught it, and perhaps the whole time he was merely teaching her to be easily smothered, deliberately stifling her power to keep her under his control. She’d had enough of that for a lifetime.

 

She sent stream after stream of crackling fire, crawling through the air, bombarding him. Her teeth vibrated, her hands shook, and she concentrated, throwing more and more, until he couldn’t block all of them, and a gust hit him directly in the chest, blasting him back into a bookcase.

 

The windows shattered in their panes, and a gust took up the curtains, spreading loose book pages around the room. Her hair fluttered around her face, and the wind cooled her sores. She held her breath.

 

He staggered unsteadily to his feet, and before she could throw more his way, his form shifted, and he reappeared across the room, knocking her off balance as a swarm of old books took flight and hurled themselves at her. She darted back behind the table.

 

It seemed to last forever. She was drunk and dizzy with the concentration of power gushing through her, and the way he stumbled back, the way he raised his arms in defense of her attack gave her the kick she’d needed. Her sores throbbed, her head ached, her limbs sagged and the fear was dragging the fight out of her, but she channeled everything she was feeling into her magic, and blasted a sizeable chunk out of the wall behind The Dark One, impairing him for a moment, giving her enough time to glance up at the chandelier hanging form the ceiling and force it to swing down, crashing into his small form.

 

She stood up and watched the dust billow up around the place where he had fallen. She barely dared to breathe, swallowing the lump in her throat. Had she done it?

 

She was approaching to try to finish him, not yet having decided whether to try to kill him, or simply make sure he was no longer a problem, when she felt the ground beneath her shift. She stopped to regain her balance. It wasn’t an earthquake though, the ground wasn’t trembling; it was _wobbling_. She watched in horror as what had moments ago been hard stone turn into something that resembled more liquid than solid, sliding and squirming beneath her.

 

She staggered back, the ground undulating and giving beneath her feet. She fell, now crawling backwards, away from Rumpelstiltskin, panting in terror as the floor became a moving sea, barely supporting her weight.

 

It was then that she felt herself _sinking_.

 

The now soft, flexible tiles rose up around her hands and legs, swallowing her. She struggled, but there was nowhere to escape to. Once she ripped her way out of that patch, she was swallowed once more having stumbled a few feet away. She felt like she was drowning, up to her waist in cold, like quicksand.

 

She reached for the curtains to keep herself above the surface, but as she stretched out her hand, the fabric twitched just out of reach. She tried again, and it leapt out of her grasp. The Dark One was on his feet, the space he was standing on perfectly sturdy and steady, grinning once more, dusty and disheveled but clearly reveling in her terror.

 

He walked towards her, the ground becoming stable as he advanced, but still slowly sucking her under. She was waist-deep now, trying not to hyperventilate at the strange and hideously unpleasant sensation grasping her legs and hips.

 

“Regina, how many times? I’m _The Dark One_. No matter how powerful you are, or _think_ you are, you will _never_ be able to defeat me, because no one can! So why you felt you had to _beg_ for me to kill you to prove something I informed you of years ago is simply beyond me…”

 

He was taunting her once more, his words coming out slow and pronounced as she squirmed and struggled, the ground enveloping her bottom ribs, slowly suffocating her.

 

She narrowed her eyes at him, her strength leaking out of her with the effort to keep herself above the surface, but using the last of it to try and _try_ to make a last ditch attempt at stopping him. The space of walls still standing trembled and groaned, the plaster cracking as she focused harder and harder, picturing what she wished to happen. She’d tried this particular technique only once before, with mixed results, but she had nowhere to turn now. She thought of her mother and her teacher, of Lord Maurice and his sad, beautiful daughter somewhere in this castle, of tiny, defenseless Henry and his wonderful, hard, stubborn, fascinating mother who she never said a proper goodbye to.

 

The cracks turned to holes as numerous, thick, thrashing vines broke out of the solid stone, twisting and flexing and taking hold of Rumpelstiltskin before he had time to react. One coiled itself round his waist, a smaller one round his neck, and two more spreading out his arms. Regina’s vision swam with exhaustion as he was lifted off the ground.

 

“…impressive, dearie…” he managed to choke out “I’ve taught you well…I’m almost proud…”

 

But the fear and shock on his face vanished, replaced with something vindictive and victorious as, with a single flick of the fingers of his right hand, the vines weakened. Regina was still struggling to free herself, but made an attempt at throwing more fire at him, only to have it fizzle out in the air between them. A few moments later, the vines had withered and retreated, and he stood before her once more; unbeaten and unbroken.

 

The floor reached her shoulders now, her arms raised above her head, and she hadn’t noticed she was crying. Her energy drained out of her like blood from a wound, and she found herself tired of fighting, faced with the inevitability of it all. As the liquid floor reached her neck, she went limp, surrendering.

 

_I’m sorry, Emma…_

A force from above wrenched her out of the ground, ripping her shoulder out of its joint and dislocating it efficiently. She was thrown down on the now once more solid floor. She lay there, the fight in her gone, extinguished like the last flame of a forest fire. Her burns stung on impact, her head thudded dully against the stone, she could barely drag enough air into her lungs and her shoulder felt numb and horrifyingly uncomfortable. She thought she might pass out, before realizing that at this point, the blackness creeping into her vision wasn’t sleep, but death. She had to stay awake to stay alive.

 

“Terribly sorry about this, dearie. I perhaps would have spared you if you had begged instead of trying to fight me, but after embarrassing us both and attempting to hurt me in such a way, I simply cannot do that. At this point it would be a mercy…such a shame, the kingdom will mourn its sad, silent, beautiful Queen, I’m sure. Not for very long though...”

 

Her mind ebbed and flowed like the tide. She could only half hear him, her senses closing down as they had twice before in this bizarre adventure she’d undertaken. She had fallen at the final hurdle; an appropriate metaphor for her life, she thought. She’d never stood a chance, she supposed, in anything. Who was she to cast away all the privilege she’d been blessed with for “happiness”? She just hoped Emma had found her child and had escaped with him, then this all wouldn’t be in vain.

 

_Remember me, Emma. I’m sorry I wasn’t as strong as you believed I was. I’m sorry I can’t fight anymore and I’m sorry I’ll never see your son. I’m sorry for every time I shouted, for every time I hurt you, for every offhand remark and every doubt of trust. I’m sorry I made your life complicated and hard. I’m sorry I’m weak. I’m sorry I never told you just how completely in love with you I am._

_I’m sorry…_

Her last thought was that she was having déjà-vu, as the blackness approached and The Dark One grinned as he raised his hand, and the doors burst open, splintered wood raining down on her. She could make out a blur of blonde, two tall figures and one tiny. She thought she heard Emma’s voice. She thought she saw green eyes.

 

She thought she must have reached heaven.


	43. Chapter 43

The first thing Emma did was to turn and shove Belle towards the door, towards the exit, towards shelter, and she heard the hurried footsteps of her son and the girl retreating as she drew her bow and loaded it in one smooth movement.

 

The Dark One looked shocked; that in itself was worth all this. His eyes were wider than usual, his hands poised in mid-air. Then her eyes were drawn away from him.

 

Regina lay on the floor. She was bleeding from her shoulder, and several other places by the looks of it. She was bruised and pale. She wasn’t moving.

 

On a flare of protective instinct, she let loose the arrow. It would have skewered whatever cold unfeeling organ pumped the blood round his body had he not gathered himself and batted it away at the last moment. His shock turned to malicious amusement.

 

“Why _Emma_. This has certainly been a day of surprises. My most promising student, followed by my son’s greatest failure.”

 

_Student? He knows Regina?_

“And…unless I’m mistaken, you’re here for the same reason, are you not?!” He feigned contemplation, then cackled at his own revelation. “My, what a turn of events!”

 

She loaded another arrow and he flinched slightly. She felt the air crackle with the tell-tale sign of magic that she had learnt to identify now.

 

She trained her eyes on him, honing in on potential weak spots, but couldn’t help herself sending a terrified glance towards Regina.

 

_God, please don’t be dead._

That was all she could think.

 

He keenly followed her split attention, chilling golden eyes flicking between the two women, neither moving, before realisation dawned and shock and amusement once more crawled across his face.

 

“Oh my!” He clapped his hands together once, making Emma jump slightly. “So it _isn’t_ merely coincidence! You’re _allies_!”

 

Emma shifted in her defensive stance but didn’t speak.

 

“You know, Swan, I’m surprised at your choice in comrades. She’s _the Queen_ ; the last person I’d have thought you’d want around. Besides, I assumed she’d look down on a common forest outlaw. An unusual pairing indeed, yet evidently effective if you both managed to make it this far, especially considering the sheer _force_ the King has out looking for her…”

 

“Such a pity. You both had rather a lot of potential. Well… _she_ did.” He cast a hollow glance that was mocking in its fake compassion at Regina. Emma didn’t want to look too closely to check if she was breathing in case she wasn’t. She probably didn’t have much longer and she’d rather die knowing her son was fleeing as she stood there and with the hope that Regina might still be alive.

 

“I’m afraid you’re no match for me, Swan. _She_ put up quite a fight, almost had me a little unbalanced at one point, but if she failed, then inevitably you will… _much faster_ …”

 

He manoeuvred round a piece of debris that looked like a chunk of wall. The Queen had clearly gone down with a fight.

 

“Anyway, your son will never escape. The castle is not only difficult to get in to, but difficult to get out of. Still, to save me having to spend too much time tracking him down, let’s get this over with now. Farewell, Swan. You put up a valiant attempt.”

 

That “valiant” attempt wasn’t over yet.

 

She fired two arrows at a breakneck speed, releasing and reloading at a pace she saved for situations of dire odds and immense danger. She shot to kill; aiming for the heart and forehead, and with anyone else she may have succeeded.

 

The Dark One raised a magic shield just in time. He took a step back to steady himself but otherwise looked unfazed. Her heartbeat seemed to echo around the room as it pounded in her temples.

 

The first nod of his head caused a crack in her torso followed by blinding pain that she was pretty sure indicated that he’d just broken a rib or two. The second slashed a deep cut across her left thigh and caused her to cry out once more and stumble where she stood. She fired three more arrows, two missed by inches, one grazed his shoulder and then buried itself in an overturned table behind him.

 

He seemed perfectly happy to dance around, dodging her arrows, blocking them when he felt like it, a grin on his face but his eyes expressionless. Emma was rooted to the spot, firing arrow after arrow through fear of what would happen if she stopped even for a second. She forced all of her attention on the Dark One, although there was a tugging behind her eyelids that was relentless and distracting, tugging in the direction of Regina’s prone form.

 

_She can’t be dead. She’s stronger than that._

With this thought firmly in her head, her vision narrowed. She saw the muscles in his right leg tense, and his left arm drift outwards slightly to steady himself, and the hunter in her came out to play, visualising his next dodge so that she was able to adjust her aim minutely and let loose an arrow that, to his evident shock, buried itself in his upper arm.

 

Not on target, but it _hit_ him.

 

He winced and she was certain she heard a gasp from his scaled, cracked mouth. The flare of triumph at her ability to cause him mild discomfort dissipated almost immediately when the anger overtook the previously playful expression on his face.

 

This was it. She hoped she had managed to bide Henry and Belle enough time.

 

Before she could even load another arrow, she felt her face collide with the floor and the breath forced out of her. Her broken ribs screamed, the gash on her thigh oozed blood onto cold stone. The world was momentarily inverted, then, once righted again, swam before her in her blurred vision.

 

The darkness in the room, which had been alive with daylight, was suddenly amplified, like he was drawing it in. His eyes held no mercy. He moved in for the kill.

 

“Such a shame, Swan. You put up quite the fight. I’m afraid I don’t have all day to dance around this, as I need to recover my… _ward_ …and return him to his rightful place. This _is_ his rightful place, after all, since you _gave_ him to me…”

 

Emma felt a stab inside that had nothing to do with her physical injuries. She managed to form a response.

 

“You left me no choice. It was either you take Henry and we all live, or we tried to fight you and all died. We discussed it, and I regretted it every day since, but it was the only option you left us with.”

 

She could have sworn his eyes were momentarily on fire with rage.

 

“ _’The only option_ ’?? _He_ betrayed me. He left me. He tricked me and ran because he was scared of who I truly was. But, he would have stayed, if it weren’t for _you_ and your stupid ideas of freedom. We would have stayed together and been happy and worked things through, but you had to tempt him away with your _nonsense_. And it cost you your son…and ultimately it cost us both him as well…so I hope you’re happy, and I hope you realise that _all this_ is _your fault_ …”

 

Emma struggled to lift her torso up using her forearms to better address the Dark One, standing over her.

 

“Neal loved me. I loved him. You _scared_ him. Ever since you got the dagger and became the Dark One, you treated him like a pawn and smothered him with your fearsome reputation. We found each other and he saw an escape from you. Doesn’t that tell you that this is _your_ fault?! That you made your son _hate_ you to the point where he wanted to run away instead of keeping me safe under your protection as your daughter-in-law? Then, to make it worse, you took his _child_ away for your own evil purposes. Heart of the Truest Believer; bullshit. You wanted to punish me, to punish your son, so you took our child…”

 

Her voice broke and she slumped back onto her back, but struggled up once more to look him in the eye.

 

“And it is all proven in the fact that he then left us both. Magic disgusted him to the point of running from it; even if the cost was never seeing his family again. He was a coward. He was weak and selfish and he ran to save himself without giving a passing thought to his son or me. Well he’s gone, Rumpelstiltskin and he isn’t coming back. But that doesn’t matter…because I’m here. I _haven’t_ forgotten my son and I will _die_ trying to save him from the same fate you bring on anyone close to you.”

 

As she had spoken, flickers of regret had sparked in his eyes. Emotions resembling remorse, pain, repentance and sorrow swam in gold depths, despite being pushed down by the idiosyncratic arrogance he had decided to let define him. She was getting to him, but she knew it was fruitless. He was too ruthless at this point. He was too far in to even think about going back. Still, it had been enough for her just to see her words pierce tiny individual holes in his cold, black heart.

 

“…And die you shall…” He hissed, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

 

He kicked her _hard_ in the stomach, winding her once more. She curled in on herself, her head throbbing from blood loss and what may have been concussion. Her strength had left her and she was ashamed of how quickly she had fallen to him.

 

Perhaps they were safe now. Perhaps Henry would have a home with Lord Maurice. Perhaps all this pain and tragedy wasn’t for nothing.

 

“You should have left Neal alone…” He sounded like he was musing aloud to himself. He had walked over to the edge of the room, where he pulled a sword off its mounted display. It was rusty and old; this would hurt. She reckoned that’s why he wasn’t just killing her with magic. He wanted to see her suffer.

 

“You should have just left us both alone and none of this would have happened to you…”

 

“Deny it all you want…Neal and I were in love…we would have been happy if you had just let us…if you hadn’t let your jealousy and protectiveness rule your head…this…is…your…fault…” She wheezed.

 

He stroked a finger along the blade, sharpening it somewhat with magic. While he was preoccupied, Emma could no longer fight the urge to drag herself across the few feet of floor separating her from Regina.

 

She leaned over the Queen. She wasn’t breathing. Emma felt for a moment that she no longer was either.

 

Suddenly, a strange sense of calm washed over her, like watching the sun set on a lazy summer afternoon from the treetops of her forest. Everything would be alright. Regina was dead, but she would be dead too soon, and maybe if the afterlife existed, she might see her again there. That was a hope more likely than seeing her again in this life, and she wished her last few minutes to be optimistic. Her son would be safe; Belle would make sure of that. Any nagging doubts she had, she simply let float away, drain away with the blood now forming a small pool around her leg. She raised trembling fingertips to Regina’s face and stroked her cold, smooth skin. The beautiful monster had died for her, for her son. The Queen she had always though a pampered, useless, bourgeoisie brat had given her life for a child she had never even met.

 

 _No_ , a voice inside Emma’s head cried out, _She gave her life for you._

She didn’t notice she was crying until she couldn’t see through the tears. She let them fall; she no longer cared what the Dark One thought of her. She didn’t want her last thoughts to be ones of fear towards him.

 

She could hear his approach. He sounded like he was limping slightly. He didn’t waste much time in taunting; that’s when she knew she had struck a nerve. No, more than that, she had opened a floodgate.

 

“So…you and my former student are not enemies after all…it seems fitting then that you should be slain on the same spot…”

 

Emma said nothing, she didn’t even turn to look at him. She merely leant down, stroked the hair away from Regina’s forehead, and kissed her softly on the lips, letting this strange euphoric resignation wash over her and numb her senses.

 

_Be safe Henry. Lead a good life, like your mother never could and your father never chose to…_

She could almost _feel_ Regina’s arms around her; pulling her into her slender form, her soft hair against her cheek, the smell of her in her nose…

 

Wait…

 

Emma opened her eyes.

 

She processed a pair of arms wrapped around her, crushing her into a trembling frame, holding her tighter and tighter like clinging to the wreckage of a burning galleon.

 

Then everything when white; blinding, burning, wonderful white.


	44. Chapter 44

It was all a blur. One minute she was defeated; she may well have been dead, it wouldn’t make much difference. She’d been clinging to her last hope, not because she had any left, simply because she needed to be near her in her final moments. The next the light had come, and it had disorientated her in brief blindness and then Regina was climbing to her feet and she was pale and bruised and swaying yet somehow _glowing_ and the magic that oozed, that _poured_ , out of her made every hair on Emma’s body stand straight up and made her flesh crawl and tingle.

 

She didn’t know what had happened to Rumpelstiltskin, but he’d been blasted off his feet with such force that he disappeared among the rubble, a pile that was then added to by more of the wall collapsing after the magical blow. Then they were running, no time to exchange words, hand in hand, streaking out of the room, out of the door, out of the castle.

 

It wasn’t simple, but there seemed that there was nothing Regina couldn’t do in that moment. The corridors swivelled and spun in front of them, doors slammed shut behind them and denied them access in front, floors titled and moved and Emma was pretty certain the ceiling started to lower at one point, but the pure energy of the newly revitalised queen kept them going, blasting through all obstacles using purely her mind. When they reached the front door, Emma was exhausted and flagging, but Regina didn’t even bat an eyelid at the heavy-duty lock, and instead blew half the wall off its foundations in order to let them leave.

 

The wind whipped Emma’s hair free of its restraints and it skimmed the side of adrenalin-heated cheeks, her lungs screaming and her legs aching as the two of them ran through the tangled mess of garden and with a gesture of Regina’s hand, they streamed through the now destroyed wrought iron gate. Panting, exhausted, disbelieving, the two slowed to a halt safely outside the estate of the Dark One, looking back at the building. Regina said nothing, merely stood up straighter, her skin still aglow with magic, and with a nod of her head, the castle caught fire, the top floors exploding and then collapsing on the rooms below. Dust was thrown high into the air and the groaning of the stone as it collapsed covered up their breathing for a moment.

 

Both women stood in silence, observing the destruction with a mixture of apprehension, disbelief and joy.

 

And then before she really knew what was happening, Emma was clinging to Regina like she’d never let go. She might have been _crying_. She felt the vice-like grip of the Queen round her shoulders, her skin tingling away like the siren’s had, and she her breathing was ragged and her heart was pounding and it seemed like the two of them blurred into one physical being in that moment, unable to tell who was sobbing and who was laughing, united in the exact mirror of emotions.

 

“Emma…Emma he could still be alive…we have to get out of here…”

 

Emma nodded and brushed relieved tears from her eyes, then grabbed Regina by the hand and ran with her back into the trees.

 

_I said wait for us close by…_

Emma’s heart was once more in her throat as the undergrowth ahead of them rustled, her hand gripping Regina’s like a guide rope. They’re close now…so close…

 

The bushes parted, and a pair of apprehensive brown eyes stared back, before widening in recognition. Belle’s face emerged, quickly followed by a small figure crashing towards them like a whirlwind. Emma caught him mid-stride, letting go of Regina’s hand as he clung to her with all his strength.

 

“You made it!” Belle exclaimed. Regina frowned behind Emma, still holding her son close.

 

“Who are you?”

 

The girl faltered and blushed slightly, but fought down her nervousness. Regina, though it was beginning to dissipate, was still emanating this strange, strong force.

 

“My name is Belle. I helped to rescue Henry.”

 

Realisation dawned and Regina let softness enter her eyes. “Lord Maurice’s daughter.”

 

Belle nodded and stood up straighter.

 

“Well thank you, it seems you played a large part…” Regina’s eyes followed her train of thought down to the floor where Emma was still crouching with the boy in her embrace.

 

“And so this must be…” She trailed off.

 

Emma pulled away from the child and held him at arms length to take him entirely, reluctant to rip her gaze away. He smiled back; utter joy fighting down the residue of fear.

 

“Henry. This is Henry. My son.” She tasted the word in her mouth and decided it wasn’t nearly as repellent as she had found it all those years ago.

 

Henry looked up at Regina. There was evidently something threatening in her aura that Emma had become accustomed to, as Henry gazed at her with a mixture of trepidation and awe.

 

Regina’s eyes were wide, taking in the physical embodiment of her goal. She had achieved it. _They_ had achieved it. He was free.

 

“Hello Henry.” She began hesitantly. “You needn’t fear any longer; you’re safe now. It’s over.”

 

Henry’s little face flooded with relief and happiness, and Belle smiled softly behind him at the sight that had been absent for too long. Emma ran a hand through his dishevelled hair.

 

“She’s right. I’m going to take care of you. You’re going to be happy, I promise.”

 

Henry scanned her face, as he had been forced to do all his life, but could detect no falsehood, so smiled again. He turned to Regina and tugged gently on her skirt. She gave a confused smile and bent down to his eye level.

 

“Yes?”

 

Henry raised his hand to his mouth and chewed on his fingers nervously for a moment.

 

“Did you kill him?” He mumbled, barely legibly.

 

“Yes.” said Belle suddenly, and the expression on her face was almost…worried? “Did you?”

 

Regina glanced between the two. “ I don’t know. He almost killed _me_. I was out for a while, then Emma showed up, then…” She looked up and into Emma’s eyes as they both remembered the kiss, the revival, the bright light, so _so_ bright…

 

But there was a time and a place for such thoughts…

 

“The roof collapsed once we were out. I think he was unconscious. It _should_ have killed him, but he isn’t mortal, so there’s a good chance he isn’t…” Emma took her son’s tiny hand when she saw the fear creep back into his face.

 

But Belle, on the other hand, sighed heavily.

 

Emma frowned in confusion but didn’t have time to question her.

 

“So, we have to get as far away as possible. If he isn’t dead, he’s certainly badly hurt, and so this is the perfect time to flee the Kingdom. Belle, we’ll get you back to your father. Regina, Henry and I shall aim to be on a ship by tomorrow.”

 

Regina felt her heart leap into her throat. This was really happening. After all the detours and distractions and obstacles in her way, freedom was finally within her reach. And Emma had said…Emma had said the three of them. Had she meant that they would stay together? Did this mean Emma wanted to leave Regina as little as she wanted to leave the thief?

 

Belle pressed her lips together and nodded.

 

“It’ll be wonderful to see father again…thank you so much for…freeing me…”

 

Emma stood up and placed a supportive hand on Belle’s shoulder.

 

“Thank _you_ , for everything. Henry wouldn’t have made it out if it wasn’t for your help.”

 

Belle smiled and shook her head. “It was nothing. No child deserves to live like that.”

 

“We’d better get going. If that monster isn’t dead, I don’t want to be anywhere near when he wakes up.” Regina stood and then paused, examining her shoulder and her ribcage and raising a hand to her cheekbone. Nothing. No blood, no pain, no burnt flesh. The magic she was channelling had healed her.

 

“Are you ok?” Emma asked softly.

 

Regina nodded, then glanced down to Emma’s blood soaked trousers, her throat tightening.

 

“Yes, but you’re not.” She raised her fingertips to the raised bruise by Emma’s temple. The thief winced even at the gentle contact.

 

“Shh…I’ll help…” Regina murmured gently, running her fingertip over the bruise. Almost instantly, the skin returned to its normal colour, the lump subsiding.

 

Emma opened her mouth to say something, but remained silent as Regina reached down and laid a fingertip over the wound on her thigh. The blood staining her trousers was sucked back into her body as the gash closed up. Emma shivered at the strange sensation.

 

“I –“ she cleared her throat. “I…didn’t know you could do that…”

 

“I couldn’t until now…” Regina replied calmly, her voice still quiet.

 

The thief held the Queen’s gaze for another moment, before awkwardly clearing her throat and turning round to rest her hand on her son’s head, as she had been wishing to do for the last six years.

 

“You’re right. Let’s get moving. We should get as far away from here as possible by sundown.”

 

The group gathered themselves and set off into the forest.

 

They stopped briefly at a freshwater spring to rehydrate and attempt to wash off some of the dirt gathered from the fight. As the day wore on, Henry began to yawn, and as tempted as Emma was to stop and let him rest, she knew they ought to try to find safety before dark came.

 

“We are not far from your home now, Belle. We should make it.”

 

“Hmm?” Belle had been routinely glancing behind her throughout their journey when she thought no one was paying attention. An idea had begun to form in Emma’s head of the reason for her strange behaviour, but she decided not to voice it for fear of it being true. “Oh right. Good.”

 

“Your father –“

 

She stopped abruptly. A noise could be heard ahead of them; only small, but growing louder, and indeed _closer_ by the second. She could not yet discern it.

 

The rest of the group noticed her stance and froze as well.

 

Emma’s ears strained. The noise was growing. It was becoming clearer and clearer.

 

_Please…not now…we’re finally close to being safe…_

Threat?

 

Paranoia?

 

The sound of hooves…

 

Five, maybe more, big creatures by the sounds of it, galloping in formation judging by the regularity. This wasn’t some outlaw party. _Shit_.

 

Emma grabbed Belle and Henry, bringing them to an abrupt halt. “Belle, take Henry and run. _Now_.”

 

“What? But –“

 

The bushes ahead parted. _Red sashes_. _No…Royal Guard_...

 

“ _Run!”_ Was all she managed.

 

Belle dragged Henry away into the undergrowth, his eyes filling with tears. Emma grabbed Regina to follow them, but suddenly there were horses everywhere, streaming towards them. They’d been seen. She had to give Belle and Henry a chance, since the guard were heading for her and Regina, giving the other two time to slip away undetected.

 

She pushed Regina behind her, somehow rationalising that her lean body of flesh and bone would somehow protect the Queen from the onslaught of Royal Guard. The horses streamed past and around them, enclosing the two women in a tight circle, leaving them turning on the spot trying to assess any possible weak points. Of course, there were none. All men on the horses looked as foreboding and immovable as the next.

 

The red decoration on armour signalled out the captain, who urged his horse towards them a few paces.

 

He lifted the visor of his helmet. Emma was trembling; from shock, from exhaustion, from misery, hopelessness or fear she had no idea.

 

The deepset eyes of the captain scanned her, then moved onto Regina. He took a fraction of the time looking at the brunette as he had the blonde.

 

“Your majesty,” dread as thick as treacle settled in Emma’s stomach. “At last, we’ve found you.”

 


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is the last proper chapter, and I shall post the epilogue within the next few days.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with it! I adore this ship, and despite not watching the show anymore, I'm still holding out hope for our happy ending. I had so much fun writing this AU, and the reception it got both here and when I posted it originally still amazes me.
> 
> Thank you for being so supportive. 
> 
> One more to go!

Regina’s fists bled and ached and her voice was hoarse.

 

She’d calmed down somewhat, the fire of anger subsiding into embers of despair. She sat collapsed against the door, still very much locked, shaking with hopeless sobs, face buried in her arms as she trembled in the huge bedchamber that held so many bad memories it made her afraid. This was where she’d been trapped night after night. This is where she lay awake next to her husband, wondering how anyone in his kingdom could see him as kind. And now, it reminded her that he wasn’t, that he wouldn’t be when it came to that afternoon.

 

She’d been shut up here for almost seven hours. She’d been brought food but she hadn’t eaten it. She’d been effectively forced into a bath but whenever her handmaids had come near her, she’d hissed and thrashed, so she had been left alone, unpampered, in a nightdress that kept her warm and comfortable and gave off the smell of the place, meaning she wanted to tear it off her, and her skin with it.

 

She’d seen the King. When her and Emma had been overpowered and apprehended, they’d been relayed straight back to the palace. She had spent the entirety of the journey unconscious, next to her thief. The King had come down to receive her on their arrival, stroking her face to make sure it wasn’t damaged, then asking the guards to escort her back to her bedchamber to “recover”. The blow to her head in the forest used to subdue her had made her woozy and uncharacteristically cooperative.

 

She didn’t know where they’d taken Emma.

 

Her husband had come to see her shortly after her “preparation”. She knew he’d call running away from him treason, so she’d tried to keep her composure. However, she’d tried to insist that Emma had not kidnapped her. That she had merely got lost while out walking past her boundary, and had been somewhat swept up in things. He didn’t buy it. He insisted she needn’t cover for the outlaw because of her gentle heart, and assured her that the villain would be tried the following day, then left before Regina could explain.

 

That was hours ago.

 

She’d screamed and shouted and thrown all her strength against the door, which the King had had locked, but no one came to her aid. Her handmaids had been told to leave her to gather herself after her traumatic ordeal but she knew there were guards stationed outside, and yet her pleas fell on deaf ears. She asked to talk to her husband, she asked to be seen on account of Emma Swan’s trial, but was entirely ignored. At this point, her desperation had transmuted into self-loathing helplessness.

 

The King wanted blood. He wouldn’t listen to reason. He’d been displeased by Regina’s absence, and needed payment for that, needed reconciliation. It didn’t matter what Regina said, or whether or not Emma was guilty of kidnapping, she was still a highly wanted outlaw.

 

Her trial was tomorrow.

 

She’d be found guilty and sentenced to execution as soon as possible.

 

And there was nothing Regina could do.

 

She had never hated her fluctuating and unreliable magic more than now. She had boiled the water of her bath merely by standing in it, but could do no more than change the colour of the door or melt the handle slightly. She assumed it was the emotional exhaustion. Besides, what would she do if she _could_ escape? She wasn’t strong enough to fight off all of the King’s Guard.

 

She pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed harder, her hair damp and messy and her face pale and drawn. She felt as desolate as she looked. The King would never want her in this state. _Good_.

 

They had been so close. Rumpelstiltskin was so powerful that even the King left him to himself out of fear, and they had escaped his castle unscathed and with Emma’s son. All that, only to get caught immediately afterwards. Regina could scream. In fact, she had…a lot.

 

At least there was a chance Henry and Belle had escaped capture.

 

She pulled at her hair and hissed through gritted teeth. She was as useless as she’d always been.

 

Emma was going to die. They were going to kill her. They might even make Regina watch. The people she was expected to spend the rest of her life around were going to take away the only thing she’d cared about since she was forced into this hell.

 

She’d poured over what to do; considering and re-considering her options, which were incredibly limited. She couldn’t reason with the King, she couldn’t break out, she had no one to ally with; she was stuck.

 

She pulled herself up and approached the mullioned windows. The criss-cross of ironwork across the glass had never felt more trapping. She could see down into her courtyard, her apple tree growing strong. She cried harder.

 

ooo

 

Emma, if the truth were told, had suffered too many blows to the head in the past month, and as a result, the one struck just after the successful rescue of her son, although only a bit harder than previous instances, managed to knock her out almost immediately.

 

When she awoke she couldn’t be absolutely certain she wasn’t still unconscious, the room was that dark. The floor was wet and cold; stone, there were no windows, just a strip of light that she assumed was the bottom of a door.

 

She drifted in and out of consciousness, her head throbbing. She woke to find hard bread and a jug of murky water thrust through the door. She ate and drank what she could stomach then passed out again on the cold floor.

 

_You’re gonna hang, Swan…_

_Or lose your head, depending on their mood…_

_You’ve let Regina down. She’s back here among these vipers. She risked her life to escape and it’s your fault she’s back here. So desperate to make yourself happy you didn’t consider her happiness…_

_You’ll probably never see her again…_

_Or Henry. If he escaped he’ll lose his mother a second time, only more permanently…_

Floors below Regina, Emma curled in on herself and through a haze of concussion and hunger and allowed herself the weakness of crying until she physically couldn’t.

 

ooo

 

Emma’s “trial” had consisted of a Royal Guard captain identifying the outlaw as Emma Swan, and then testifying that they had found her in the forest with the Queen. Regina was not present, but not talking at all to shouting the roof down scared her handmaid enough to get her to relay what she knew.

 

She would be executed the following day.

 

Well, not if there was anything Regina could do to stop it.

 

She wasn’t going down without a fight. And so what if she was killed in the process? It would be a welcome relief, especially if she had to watch them take Emma’s head.

 

Having spent all night curled up on the floor in the same spot, she stood unsteadily and sighed. She knew what had to be done. She ate the entire contents of the tray that had been left out for her. She bathed and cleaned herself, dragging a comb through her hair, and then crawled under the covers of the four-poster bed.

 

The bed made her feel tiny, made her feel like she was being swallowed by accident, and it made her flesh crawl and her skin prickle, but the mattress was soft, and she knew she needed rest after all her body had endured on virtually no sleep.

 

She slept sporadically. She woke several times during the endless night, gripped with nightmares that she was too late, or something along those lines. She left the curtains open deliberately so that sunlight would flood the chamber at the break of dawn and wake her up.

 

She rose and dressed and ran through her plan in her head again.

 

Then she waited.

 

Emma’s execution would be at noon.

 

At eleven, two servants would bring her breakfast.

 

That was her chance.

 

Luckily she knew the palace relatively well. She knew it’s shortcuts and weak spots and the corridors where there were more guards and the courtyards where there were fewer. She knew she’d have to think on her feet. She knew it was dangerous. She had the advantage of being the King’s wife, therefore less likely to just be killed on sight if she was found trying to escape, but underneath all the philanthropic bullshit, the King was ruthless, especially with regards to what he viewed as his property. If he caught her in the act of being “unfaithful” to him, things could go from bad to worse _very_ quickly.

 

She paced the room for hours, wishing that time would move faster and wishing that noon would never come.

 

ooo

 

She remembered very little of her trial.

 

She was so hungry that she couldn’t afford to pass up meals, despite the fact she knew they were slipping something into her food; a drug of some sort. When she was brought before the court, she was so dizzy and drowsy she could barely talk. Her head felt like wool, her mouth was dry and her tongue wouldn’t obey, the strength had left her completely, so much so she had difficulty standing, and was therefore propped up between two huge guards.

 

They had Emma Swan, notorious outlaw, exactly where they wanted her; sedated, under control and her threat entirely neutralised.

 

She was found guilty.

 

_Like that was a shock…_

She had about three hours to live.

 

And she had absolutely no idea how to change that.

 

There was no chance of her escaping. She could barely hold up her own head, let alone fight off the entire Royal Guard. She had no allies that knew of her incarceration or would be brave/crazy enough to attempt a rescue. Knowing the King, Regina would be equally doomed; locked up somewhere, never to truly live again.

 

What an outcome to their quest.

 

The door to her cell was thrown open and the light hurt her watering eyes. Rough hands grabbed her and forced her to her feet, locking manacles around her already bruised wrists and all but dragging her into the dungeon corridor.

 

She was forced gracelessly into what she presumed to be a holding cell. There was more light than there had been in her previous place of dwelling, and the rolling in her gut told her that this was a bad thing. She sat slumped in the corner, chained, hungry, cold and tired and found that she didn’t have the energy to resist. These were her final moments. She thought of Henry, how close she had been, how much promise their future had held. She hoped he was safe; surely fate could give her that at least? She had not lived long, but she’d lived a lot, and there is no way she’d rather end her existence less than executed at the hand the King, but she’d spent hours thinking out every potential way of escape and it was entirely impossible. Two guards stood outside the bars of her cell, meaning she had no chance of slipping off the manacles secretly, even if she had a way of doing so. She was outnumbered, overwhelmed and subdued by whatever potion they had slipped into her food. She was finished.

 

She tried to accept this. She tried to picture Henry growing up. She knew Lord Maurice. She knew that if Belle had managed to return to her father, he would be grateful, and Belle would be compassionate enough to ask him to allow Henry to be raised in his castle. How could he refuse? If Belle had found her way home, Henry was safe, and would have a comfortable childhood and a good life. That’s all she could have asked for under the circumstances.

 

Regina, on the other hand, was doomed. Emma could guess that the King would keep a closer eye on her than before, she’d rarely be allowed a moment alone, and never again a moment to escape. She’d be locked in that prison for the rest of her life because Emma couldn’t protect her. The end of their journey was about as bad as it could get for those two.

 

 _You’re dead, Swan; try to find some peace_.

 

Henry was likely safe. Her friends had survived. Regina would live. Her execution would likely be quick.

 

Despite these thoughts, she couldn’t control the tears that flowed freely and unrelentingly in the corner of the holding cell.

 

ooo

 

Regina sat calmly at the small round table by her window. She flinched slightly as her door was unlocked, and kept her gaze even, her expression cool and her eyes away from the two servants who carried in a tray of her breakfast, shutting the door behind them.

 

“Could you bring it over here, please?” She called out. They glanced over to where she sat, out of sight from the door. They brought it to her without a second thought.

 

Once they’d placed the tray on the table, Regina stood up swiftly and brought the candlestick she’d been holding out of sight onto the head of the first man. He didn’t have time to process what had happened before his eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the floor.

 

The other one, however, as Regina had guessed, had reacted immediately, drawing his sword and swiping at her. She ducked under the blade, grabbing a knife from her breakfast tray and in one movement, buried it in his leg, the blunt metal taking some force to sink in. His sword whispered by her ear, his aim off due to the pain, and he stumbled, breath coming out choked, and before he had time to scream, she hit him with the candlestick. He fell, still clutching his leg, but conscious. She gritted her teeth and hit him again and again until the candlestick was bloody and he wasn’t moving. She had no time to check if either of them were alive, her body fizzing with fear and adrenalin.

 

If she was going to stay locked up for the rest of her life, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

 

She pulled the sword from underneath the servant. The fact they were both armed made her feel more like a prisoner than she did already. The King had still underestimated her, however, understandable since he was unaware of her magical abilities. There were two guards stationed outside her door, and the darkness was rising within her once more, obscuring her vision and changing her character.

 

The guards outside had clearly been there all night. Yet to be relieved of their shift, they were tired and docile, and Regina almost felt bad about opening the door as silently as she could and slitting both of their throats. Then she thought of Emma, she looked at the long, empty corridor before her and calmly wiped the blood off her hands, placing the sword she’d used next the bodies. She’d killed before, and she would again if it meant she could stop what was going to happen.

 

For once in her life she was happy about being entirely underestimated by the King, as there was no sign of any guards around her door. She’d managed to escape the confinement of her room without using any magic; helpful as she’d need all her energy later.

 

The corridors were quiet. She slinked round corners, her heart pounding in her ears, unable to believe she’d got this far. Many people were away from their posts as extra security for the execution, and Regina decided that she’d rather sneak past guards than make a scene by killing them. She took a passageway to avoid the open expanse of a courtyard and was forced to make a bust take out two guards whilst hiding in a doorway.

 

She made it to the ground floor and her heart was in her mouth as she crept down a quiet stairwell and slipped into an alcove as three maids shuffled past. A glance out of the window revealed that the sun was almost at its highest; noon wasn’t far off. The execution would be held in the largest courtyard, open to the public on such occasions, so hopefully she would go unnoticed. She slipped down a servants passage to the corridor leading to the kitchen, then back up the next staircase to avoid the throne room entrance, then managed to get outside with only locking one unconscious guard in a side chamber.

 

A wooden platform had been built in the centre, and a mass of hundreds of people swarmed around it. The chatter and shouting finally drowned out the sound of her own pulse as she slipped subtly into the crowd, worming her way closer to the scaffold, the chopping block the only thing on it. She wondered for the first time how long she had. Now that she was here, nothing in the known world could stop her from climbing onto the platform and doing whatever she needed to in order to stop this happening, but pretty soon someone would notice she was gone, right? Soon, the guard shift would change and they’d find the bodies she’d left behind and there’d be a search. They might even postpone Emma’s execution until she was locked back up and under much heavier fortification before killing her.

 

She had no time to worry about that now. She bent down slightly, letting the crowd swallow her as trumpets blared and pikes rose and the King was walked out of the main entrance to the courtyard. Regina had been told when Emma was sentenced that she was not to watch the execution, as the King claimed she was too traumatised to witness any more horror. She was glad of this; she’d have no way of getting to Emma if she was to be placed on the Royal stand.

 

The King took his seat, surrounded by his servants and personal guard, and the sight of him brought every ounce of hatred rushing back into Regina’s bloodstream, despite all the years. If she failed in saving Emma, the best she could hope for was that he would mark her out as a traitor and execute her on the spot as well.

 

Then they marched Emma out. The sight of _her_ also ignited hatred in Regina, but for an entirely different reason. Emma was white as a winter’s sky, black and blue patches blotching her face. The bruise on her cheekbone was bleeding, there was blood tangled in her hair, and she could barely walk, needing therefore to be practically dragged in her chains by the guards up onto the platform. Regina swallowed _hard_ , forcing herself to remain composed lest she should attract attention, and so brushed away the tears she simply couldn’t hold back.

 

She wormed her way even closer through the crowd, now growing silent, as Emma was forced to her knees before the judge. Regina’s stomach plummeted as the executioner mounted the scaffold, axe in hand, hood over his head.

 

“Emma Swan, you are herby charged with the following crimes; theft, evasion of tax, deception of officers, obstruction of justice, piracy, murder, assistance of further crimes, and most recently the unlawful abduction of Her Majesty Queen Regina, wife of your monarch, King Leopold. You have been found guilty of all of these charges. I therefore in the name of His Majesty and his Supreme Court sentence you to death by beheading. May your persistent evil end here, in the land of the living.”

 

Having finished, the judge rolled up the scroll he had been reading off and turned to face the King, bowed, and left the platform.

 

Regina tensed as the executioner moved closer.

 

“Miss Swan.” Called the King. Every head in the audience snapped from the outlaw to the monarch.

 

Emma managed to raise her head. Even in her beaten and broken state, there was still a glimmer of defiance in forest green eyes. Regina felt her heart lift and her muscles twitch in preparation.

 

“Your greed threatened my family. If it weren’t for the brave men of my Royal Guard, I would be left without a wife. This, on top of your other crimes, makes you a most despicable criminal. I pray you find rest. Do you have any last words?” The King’s voice was deep and assured, and it made Regina shiver with anger. She could feel her skin heating up as her magic bubbled under her skin.

 

Emma lifted her eyes to observe him. The expression on her face was one of defeat, acceptance, sadness, and utter loathing. She then turned to look out at the crowd, straightening her back a little.

 

“A kingdom…is only as corrupt as its King…a child is only as hateful as its mother…and hatred is something image stirs and character breaks…”

 

She breathed heavily, shouting clearly exhausting her, the she turned once more to look at the King.

 

“Look beneath her beauty, Leopold, and you’ll see the fire within.”

 

She said this calmly, understated, with more hatred than Regina had.

 

Then she squared her jaw and look forwards again as the King gave the executioner a nod.

 

The crowd had been silent during Emma’s speech, but now started to get restless at the promise of blood. As the bustle began, Regina took the opportunity to press even further until she was right beside the platform, tilting her face away from the nearest guard and hoping the ruckus of the crowd would hide her sufficiently.

 

Emma was forced towards the block, kneeling before it and then bent over so her neck was bared to the blade. Regina thought she would be sick, but then reminded herself of everything else they’d survived. They’d endured because they gained strength from each other. She’d protect her, like she always had, like she now realized she always would, because Emma Swan didn’t need protection, apart from the times when she did, and Regina would do it thoughtlessly, wordlessly, and without question on either side.

 

So when the axe was raised and the crowd’s excitement reached its peak, the King leaned forward on his chair slightly and Emma’s eyes screwed shut against the inevitability of this abrupt end to everything, Regina moved smoothly, effortlessly, without even thinking about it.

 

_“STOP!”_

 

The King was standing, the crowd fell into a shocked silence, the executioner taking a step back.

 

The axe had fallen from his hand.

 

Regina stood between him and Emma, having climbed up onto the scaffold like she was expected there.

 

Emma’s eyes snapped open, frozen in momentary shock. _Is this death?_

Regina stood calmly, her hands by her sides, her shoulders relaxed but her posture rigid and unmoving. The executioner glanced between the two, entirely unsure as to what to do. The guards had moved immediately to apprehend the intruder, before realising who it was who had so nearly taken the deathblow intended for the outlaw.

 

“ _Regina_...?” The King asked in utter confusion. “Regina…get down from there at once…”

 

Regina’s eyes didn’t leave the executioner. “Not today, Leopold.”

 

The King gestured frantically to his guards, and made his way swiftly over to the scaffold moving past other dumbstruck guards, unsure who to obey in the circumstance.

 

“Regina!” He hissed as he approached, pushing past the executioner, who had now picked up his axe.

 

Guards surrounded the two women, yet Regina did not flinch. Emma had removed her head from the block, and raised a hand to lightly grip Regina’s skirt, a gesture that went unnoticed by everyone but Regina.

 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you kill this woman, Your Majesty.” Regina said calmly.

 

The King’s brow furrowed, and he looked severely taken aback for a moment, before anger flared up in withered eyes.

 

“What?! Explain immediately. This woman is a filthy criminal, we have passed sentence; she is to die. _So what on earth are you doing_?!”

 

Regina raised an eyebrow.

 

“I didn’t say she wasn’t a criminal. I merely said I can’t let you kill her. And that’s the truth. You will not kill her. _I won’t allow it_.”

 

“ _’Allow’?!_ ” the King stammered. “Regina, she _kidnapped you_ , my dear. You are traumatised, you do not recall entirely. She took you from me. She’s _evil_.”

 

The silence from the hundreds of gathered subjects was amazing.

 

“She did indeed take me from you, Your Majesty, but she did not kidnap me. In fact, for that act alone she is entirely pardoned from all past crimes in my eyes. She _freed_ me. She didn’t take me against my will, _I found her_. I enlisted her help and she did very well. She will not die.” She reiterated, her stance becoming more protective as the executioner appeared to gather himself slightly.

 

“What on earth…” he stuttered again. “ _Regina!_ Stop this nonsense at once! I am your King and she is a criminal and you will _not concern yourself in matters you do not understand!_ ”

 

“My King? My husband? My owner? My captor? What does it matter? I’m done with that. I’m done with _you_.”

 

There was a collected muffled gasp from the spectators and the King actually took a step back in his shock.

 

“Stop this impertinence at once. You are the most fortunate woman in the kingdom to be my wife, and you will learn to be grateful. Stop chasing these childish fantasies and let us rid the world of a common criminal. You’ll realise soon enough that people like _her_ are the lowest of life, and people like _me_ are your best option. I love you, and I will give you everything you desire, and I am only looking out for your best interests, Regina. Now stop this foolishness and leave at once, you’ve made quite enough of a scene.”

 

He turned back to signal to his guard.

 

“If you loved me even a _fraction_ of how much I love this ‘common criminal’, you’d set me free, believe me.”

 

That stunned everyone gathered into silence. The public glanced at each other in total bemusement, the King’s eyes widened with a mixture of disbelief and horror, and Emma’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes flicking up to look at the Queen.

 

“Now—“ The King began again. “Now…d-don’t be _ridiculous_ , Regina. You don’t understand that word. You barely know this woman, she is not your friend, she is the enemy, and she is leading you astray. You do not love her.”

 

Regina let a dark, ironic smile break out across her face, and she laughed loudly in the King’s face.

 

“No, Your Majesty, I’m afraid I love her. It made me unhappy too at first. But I am absolutely certain of the fact. I love her in a way that means I can give her nothing but myself, in a way that took weeks and weeks of breaking down barriers and being forced into her life and her company, in a way that means I would _never, ever,_ force anything on her she did not want, because I care about her happiness more than my own. _That’s_ love, is it not? And how would you know anyway?”

 

The King’s anger turned to pure rage, and he lurched forward and grabbed Regina’s arm. Emma’s grip tightened on her skirt.

 

“You are a child. You will sit still and do as I say, you will not interfere in any matter that does not concern you and you will _behave yourself_ , or you will wish you were dead.” He hissed to her alone.

 

She smirked again. “I already do, Your Majesty. Kill me. I don’t care. You won’t be killing her.”

 

“We’ll see about that.” The King growled, and waved the executioner back over.

 

The axe was raised, Regina was dragged out of the way, Emma was forced back down, the blow was swung.

 

 _Silence_.

 

A blistering kind of scorching silence as the blade of the axe met the palm of Regina’s outstretched hand.

 

Her other hand was clutched tightly, firmly, unstoppably in Emma’s manacled one.

 

A tiny white crack formed in the blade.

 

Then the explosion happened.

 

The blade shattered into tiny metal snowflakes, the executioner himself bursting in a blaze of light. The guards were blown back off the scaffold and the King was thrown to the ground through the sheer force of the magic.

 

Then time resumed its regular pace.

 

The guards did not approach, staring in terror at where the executioner had stood. The King looked up from the floor. Regina stood up straight, blood trailing down her fingers from her palm.

 

“Oh yes, in case you hadn’t realized, I _know_ it’s love. It’s clearly _True Love_. She will not die.”

 

Everyone was silent.

 

As the King lay dumbfounded on the floor, Regina knelt down and with an ease she didn’t even process, simply melted the manacles off Emma’s wrists without leaving a single burn on her skin.

 

The blonde collapsed into her arms and Regina _smiled_ , like she was free already. She could feel Emma shaking, and she hugged her tighter. This was it. There was no way to turn back from here.

 

She pulled Emma unsteadily to her feet, then looked around at the frozen terror on her enemies faces.

 

She turned to her husband.

 

“I am leaving, Leopold, and you will let me go. You will find a new wife. You will try to love her and fail. You will rate your daughter above anyone else until you mess her up as well. You will never see me again. And if you follow me, I will kill you and your entire army if I have to.”

 

The King could form no words.

 

Regina turned to Emma, a hundred questions bubbling on the blonde’s tongue.

 

“Save it, Swan. That’s for later. But if you think you’re raising that kid alone, you’re mistaken.”

 

Emma’s mouth opened and closed several times, before she gave up trying to speak and just smiled instead. Regina allowed herself to pull Emma closer and kiss her firmly, reassuringly, _lovingly_ in front of a multitude of village peasants and the entire Royal Guard, then laughed along with the blonde at the absurdity of it all.

 

“You’ve spent your whole life fighting back against the world, maybe now you won’t have to do it on your own…”

 

“I’m open to that…” Emma smiled again.

 

Regina pulled her closer and closed her eyes, feeling this new kind of white magic gliding through her and channelling it, controlling it in a way she never knew she could do before. The couple vanished in a cloud of white smoke.

 

The assembled public stared on it absolute shock at the space where, only moments ago, the Queen and the Outlaw had been standing together, not looking at the world they had conquered, but instead looking the only way they could; at the world they had conquered in each other.

 

 


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thank you to all of you. I’m getting a little emotional. To be honest, I wouldn’t have expected keeping up the enthusiasm to write 10 chapters of this, let alone almost 50. This is the first multi-chapter I’ve ever seen through to the end, and thank you very much to you for sticking with it as well. I love this ship and probably always will, and I can only hope I’ve left a small mark on this wonderful little world we’ve created for ourselves.
> 
> Another massive thank you to you all. I can’t explain how thrilled I am at the response to this fanfiction. 
> 
> My tumblr, if anyone wants to say hi (or perhaps leave me a prompt??? Check my about page for other ships you can request) is “sarcastic-jazzhands”. I don’t bite, I’d love to hear from any/all of you.

“She did _what_?!”

 

Ruby started slightly at Emma’s raised voice, putting her cup down on the table and swinging back in her chair.

 

“She went back to him. How many time do I have to repeat it?”

 

Emma sat in stunned silence, mouth hanging open slightly as she tried to connect her thoughts.

 

“So we all nearly died escaping him, to release her from years of imprisonment, just for her to… _go back to him_?!”

 

Ruby nodded casually.

 

“Look Emma, I’ve spoken to her. We’re kind of close now, actually, and she’s a very smart, steady girl who knows what she wants and who knows what’s right. It was her decision, and he was so surprised to see her again that I think he just let her do what she wanted. She isn’t his prisoner anymore.”

 

“Well is he gonna come for my son? Do I need to be worried?”

 

Ruby shook her head. “He has no idea where you are and according to Belle, he isn’t looking. I’m telling you that girl is a positive influence on him. She’s protecting you. Apparently he’s not particularly fixated on ripping out Henry’s heart anymore. He may have even let that whole thing go.”

 

Emma frowned and crossed her arms, leaning back to avoid the sunlight streaming in through the window and directly into her eyes. “I wouldn’t count on it, but as long as Belle gives us a bit of notice if he _does_ start to re-enter that whole area, then I’m calm. How did her father take it?”

 

“He’s not happy, as you can imagine, but he gets to see her regularly now, and it means his land and his court isn’t under threat from Rumpelstiltskin anymore, so that’s a plus.”

 

Emma sighed deeply and processed what she’d heard. She still looked sceptical, but her grim expression softened considerably.

 

“Ah, who am I to judge? If she’s happy there, then good for her. And as long as she’s keeping him from running rampant and being evil, that’s good for me too.”

 

Ruby smiled a pointy smile.

 

“And how are you? How’s Granny?”

 

“She’s fine! And everything seems under control at the moment. I’ve missed her. I miss _company_ if I’m honest. I’m waiting for a handsome prince to sweep me away, and then I remember that if he picks the wrong time of month, I could eat him, so I’m put off the idea. But no, I can’t complain. It’s so nice having her around and she helps me during _that time_. It was a good move, I think.”

 

“I’m glad. You of all people don’t suit solitude.”

 

“And I always thought you did, but _now_ …”

 

Ruby smirked and Emma rolled her eyes.

 

“I’m happy for you! You got everything you wanted!”

 

Emma laughed. “I don’t think I knew that this is what I wanted.”

 

“You wanted to be happy. You got that. Anyone could tell from a mile away.”

 

Emma shook her head contemplatively, a small smile touching her lips.

 

“Have you seen Hook since, by the way?”

 

Emma raised her eyebrows.

 

“Once. Briefly. I wanted to make sure he’d recovered after the incident that _I_ brought onto his ship.”

 

“And has he?”

 

“Yeah pretty much. He wasn’t too happy with the way things turned out for me though. I think he _really_ regrets reiterating how beautiful Regina is in my presence.”

 

Ruby giggled, eyebrows shooting up. “I knew he wouldn’t be thrilled. Still, he can’t exactly object.”

 

“No, because that would mean I value his opinion on the matter, or indeed anyone’s opinion. It’s no one else’s business.”

 

Ruby’s smile grew softer, and she looked at Emma like she’s come out of hiding for the first time in years.

 

The door opened and the sunlight flooded Emma’s eyes once more. She lifted a hand to shield them as two people entered the kitchen.

 

“Sorry! I couldn’t get everything, it started to rain and I didn’t think Henry’s coat was sufficient –“

 

“Honestly, I give you _one job_ and you can’t even get ingredients without messing it up!” Emma berated, but there was not a trace of venom in her words.

 

Regina smiled brightly, brushing her hair over her shoulder and lifting the basket she had been carrying onto the kitchen table. Henry followed behind her, running through the door and straight into Regina’s legs.

 

“Hey! I told you sugar was a bad idea. You’ve got to be careful in the kitchen! That’s how accidents happen!”

 

“Sorry Ma! Hello Mama!” The child said as he climbed up onto one of the chairs next to Emma.

 

“You gave him _sugar_?!” The blonde asked incredulously.

 

Regina bit her lip and shrugged. “He’d been very good on the way and he was awfully quiet when I was shopping, and you know I can’t resist those eyes.”

 

Emma glanced at her son’s green eyes, her eyes, and frowned at Regina.

 

“Hello Ruby. Has this woman offered you anything to drink or are her social skills as bad as ever?”

 

Ruby looked at Emma with a raised eyebrow and laughed. “She has, thank you. I’ve been here a while.”

 

“Belle went back to the Dark One.” Said Emma.

 

Regina halted where she stood on her toes putting away her shopping and looked incredulously over her shoulder at the blonde.

 

“ _What?_ ”

 

“ _I know!_ It’s insane, but apparently he doesn’t treat her so badly anymore. I think she actually _enjoys_ his company. And Ruby’s as it happens; the two are apparently good friends now.” Regina looked to Ruby and the werewolf nodded happily.

 

“Well that’s…sweet…as long as that poor girl’s happy now.”

 

“She is.” Ruby said, reaching into the basket and helping herself to some blackberries. “She gets to see her father regularly and she’s changing Rumpelstiltskin for the better! He’s gonna leave you three alone now.”

 

Regina sighed. “Well _that’s_ a weight off. We’ve got enough to worry about with _him_ running rampant.”

 

Henry blushed under all the attention now focussed on him, his mouth coated in purple blackberry juice.

 

Emma pushed the basket away from him. “Ma was going to make jam with those!” Henry shrugged and leapt off the chair and darted off into his house.

 

“Sorry Mama!”

 

Ruby laughed as Emma opened her mouth to shout back at her son, before deciding against it and closing her mouth.

 

“I’d better be off. I have _more errands_ to run. I’ll tell you what, there was less to do when it was just me.”

 

Emma got up to hug her and Regina, who was struggling with a new cooking pot called a goodbye over to her.

 

“I’ll be checking up on you two soon, to check you haven’t killed each other. It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long.”

 

Emma laughed. “We just take each day as it comes.”

 

Ruby smirked at the two of them in her traditional way, then swept out of the house, red cape flashing characteristically behind her.

 

Regina sighed heavily.

 

“After all that effort we went to to get her out, she just goes running back!”

 

Emma smiled. “Ah, well you can never guess these things I suppose.”

 

Regina raised an eyebrow and returned the blonde’s smile. Somewhere upstairs, a loud thud sounded. Emma marched into the hallway to shout up to the other inhabitant.

 

“Henry? What was that noise?”

 

A hesitant shout answered. “I…sort of fell off my bed. Sorry Mama.”

 

Emma shook her head to herself. “How many times? _Don’t…jump…on your bed!_ ”

 

A carefree apology was shouted back down and Emma moved back into the kitchen.

 

“So did you go to the Mayor about the job today?” Regina asked.

 

“Yes. I don’t know if he’ll give it to me, but I think I gave the impression that I was well suited to it.”

 

“You didn’t mention the past life of copious crime, right?”

 

“No, luckily I managed to keep quiet about that. I feel like that could have jeopardised my chances a little.”

 

Regina rolled her eyes, but rounded the table and wrapped her arms around the blonde’s waist, planting a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.

 

“I must say I’m proud of you. I know cold turkey’s been tough, but five weeks without stealing anything is pretty impressive…for _you_ anyway. You deserve the job…even if _Sheriff_ is a bit ironic.”

 

Emma frowned playfully, feigning offense. “I will be a wonderful enforcer of law. I know all the tricks. I’ll catch ‘em out!”

 

“And then you’ll let them go if they’re your friends…”

 

“Hey! That’s like outlaw code!”

 

“You’re not an outlaw any more.”

 

“I’ll always be an outlaw.” Emma murmured as she leaned forward to kiss the other woman. Regina dodged playfully from her arms before she could.

 

“I asked at the school. Henry starts at the beginning of next month.”

 

Emma sat down at the table. “I’m worried he’ll be left out.”

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“I don’t know, because he’s never been to school before? Because all the other kids will already know each other? Because he’s got two mothers and one of them used to be the queen?”

 

Regina laughed lightly. “I think if any of them are nasty to him, I will go in and deal with it like a reasonable adult. And if that doesn’t work you can always go in and beat them up.”

 

Emma feigned offence while Regina began crushing berries.

 

“Yeah, when are we going to explain the whole ‘two mom’ thing to him?”

 

Regina glanced over at her, confused. “What needs explaining?”

 

Emma thought for a minute, then shrugged. “I suppose you have a point.”

 

“And besides, an ex-queen with dark magic and a famed outlaw whose father-in-law imprisoned him; what’s difficult to understand about that?”

 

ooo

 

The sun set slowly and calmly. The summer had been warm and forgiving, and the land the queen and the outlaw found themselves in was bright and beautiful. Their home was reasonable and their income uneven but more than adequate. It had so far been a strangely steady part of their previously hectic lives.

 

Emma stood outside their cottage, looking into the forest, the soft breeze carrying her skirt around her slightly. She wore more dresses then than she’d used to, Regina on the other hand wore fewer. Emma heard the door open then close; the brunette was approaching, she knew.

 

“He’s finally settled down. It took three different stories, though.”

 

Emma smiled wistfully, without looking at Regina. “I heard they have a lot of energy at this age.”

 

“It’s only a matter of time before he’s out all night.”

 

“Not if I have anything to do with it. The forest is a dangerous place.”

 

Regina glanced sideways at her, smirking in response, then following her gaze into the darkening trees.

 

“It’s exciting.”

 

“I agree with you there.”

 

Emma sighed; heavily but contently. Regina took her hand and moved closer.

 

“Do you miss it?”

 

“My old life?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Sometimes. It was exciting and exhilarating, and I was free. This is a different kind of freedom though, one that’s both comfortable and terrifying.”

 

“You don’t have to constantly worry about being arrested.”

 

“That’s a plus, I suppose. I won’t even ask if you miss your old life.”

 

Regina laughed bitterly, with utter relief. “Certainly not. All the comforts of royalty can’t hold a candle to that creaky stool beside our son’s bed.”

 

Emma’s smile grew by inches, and Regina swore she saw tears fill her eyes.

 

“I never saw this coming, princess.”

 

Regina shook her head and laughed quietly again. “I don’t think either of us did.”

 

“I love the way you’re so good with him, after everything you experienced in your childhood.”

 

“That’s probably why I love him so much; I want to be the mother my mother never was, never _tried_ to be.”

 

“Well I’m so grateful. I may miss the wilderness, but I would _never_ take back everything we’ve been through. I’d do it all again, all the pain, if it meant I could end up here again. I love this life, don’t ever forget that.”

 

“I wouldn’t.”

 

“I love you. Don’t ever forget _that_ , more importantly.”

 

Regina nudged the other woman with her shoulder. “I _really_ wouldn’t forget that.”

 

There was a moment of silence while they both stared out into the wood, looking at nothing in particular, looking at trees and grass and darkness, looking at the past.

 

“It might get difficult at some point, you know?”

 

“In many ways, yes.”

 

“Someone might come looking for us. _He_ might come looking for Henry.”

 

“He failed to keep us apart the first time, I have no intention of letting him have a second attempt, let alone succeeding at it.”

 

“That makes two of us.”

 

A wolf howled somewhere in the forest. The clouds shifted to let the moon pierce the night. The breeze made Regina shiver a little, so Emma shifted closer.

 

“This was inevitable, wasn’t it?”

 

“Well, it was the only way it could have played out, if you _really_ think about it.”

 

“I guess it’s True Love, right?”

 

“I suppose that’s the only explanation for all the magic.”

 

“You annoyed?”

 

Emma glanced at the ex-queen and smirked. “A little.”

 

Regina swatted her arm and scoffed. Emma laughed.

 

“You have to learn to adapt. Even if we didn’t have that label, I’d still have to learn to live with you, because there’s no way I could live _without_ you now. In too deep, I’m afraid.”

 

“Wow, you’re so romantic.” Regina deadpanned.

 

Emma laughed, but squeezed her hand tightly.

 

The night wore on and the wind got colder, and they made their way back inside, Emma glancing over her shoulder at the foreboding, enticing darkness of the forest before decisively closing the door, then climbing into bed next to her queen.

 

They thought that perhaps after all this trouble and all this surviving, this was the only way to live.

 

 

 


End file.
